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THE FAITH HEALER 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO 

ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, 

TORONTO 



THE FAITH HEALER 

a pa? in Cljree acts 



BY 

WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY 

AUTHOR OF "THE GREAT DIVIDE," ETC. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1910 

All rights reserved 






Copyright, 1909, 1910, 
By WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY. 



Set up and electrotyped. Published March, 1910. 



Nortoooft 18rfsa 

J. 8. Cushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



©CI.D 2u338 



PERSONS OF THE PLAY 

Ulrich Michaelis 
Matthew Beeler 
Mary Beeler, his wife 
Martha Beeler, his sister 
Annie Beeler, his daughter 
Rhoda Williams, Mrs. Beeler's niece 
Dr. George Littlefield 
Rev. John Culpepper 
Uncle Abe, an old negro 
An Indian Boy 

A Young Mother with her Baby 
Various Sick People and Others attendant 
upon Them 



ACT I 



ACT I 

A large old-fashioned room in Matthew Beeler 1 s farm-house, 
near a small town in the Middle West. The room is used 
for dining and for general living purposes. It suggests, in 
architecture and furnishings, a past of considerable pros- 
perity, which has now given place to more humble living. 
The house is, in fact, the ancestral home of Mr. Beeler'' s 
wife, Mary, born Beardsley, a family of the local farming 
aristocracy, now decayed. At the rear is a large double 
window, set in a broad alcove. To the right of the window 
is the entrance door, which opens upon the side yard, show- 
ing bushes, trees, and farm buildings. 

In the right wall of the room a door and covered stairway 
lead to the upper story. Farther forward is a wall cup- 
board, and a door leading into the kitchen. Opposite this 
cupboard, in the left-hand wall of the room, is a mantel- 
piece and grate; farther back a double door, leading to a 
hall. Off the hall open two bedrooms {not seen), one be- 
longing to Mr. and Mrs. Beeler, the other to Rhoda 
Williams, a niece of Mrs. Beeler, child of her dead sister. 

The room contains, among other articles of furniture, a dining 
table {with detachable leaves to reduce its bulk when not 
in use for eating purposes), an invalid's wheel-chair, a low 
sofa of generous size, and a book-shelf, upon which are 
arranged the scientific books which Mr. Beeler takes a 
somewhat untutored but genuine delight in. Tacked upon 
the wall near by are portraits of scientific men, Darwin 
and Spencer conspicuous among them, cut from periodicals. 
3 



4 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Other pictures, including family daguerreotypes and photo- 
graphs, are variously distributed about the walls. Over 
the mantel shelf hangs a large map of the United States and 
Mexico, faded and fly- specked. 

As the curtain rises, the room is dark, except for a dull fire 
in the grate. The ticking of the clock is heard; it strikes 
six. Martha Beeler, a woman of forty -five, enters from 
the kitchen, carrying a lighted lamp. She wears a shawl 
over her shoulders, a print dress, and a kitchen apron. 
She places the lamp on the table, which is set for breakfast, 
and puts coal on the grate, which soon flames more brightly. 

She goes into the hall and is heard knocking and calling. 

Martha. 
Rhody ! Rhody ! 

Matthew Beeler, a man of fifty, enters. He is not quite 
dressed, but finishes as he comes in. Martha follows him. 

Where's that niece of yours got to now ? 

Beeler. 
She's helping Mary dress. 

Martha. 

What in time's Mary gettin' up for? She's 
only in the way till the work's done. 

Beeler. 
She's restless. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 5 

Martha. 

Significantly. 

I shouldn't wonder. Pause. I hope you know 

why Mary didn't sleep. 

Beeler. 

Evasively. 

She's always been a light sleeper, since she got 
her stroke. 

Martha. 

Look here, Mat Beeler ! I'm your born sister. 
Don't try to fool me ! You know why your 
wife didn't sleep last night. 

Beeler. 
Maybe I do, Sis. 

Points to the ceiling. 

Is he up yet ? 

Martha. 

Up ! I don't believe he's been abed. 

They listen, as to the tread of some one on the floor above. 

Back and forth, like a tiger in a cage ! 

Beeler. 

Shrugs. 

Queer customer. 



6 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Martha. 
Yes. 

Imitates him. 

" Queer customer," that's you. But come to 
doin' anything about it ! 

Beeler. 
Give me time, Sis, give me time ! 

Martha. 

How much time do you want ? He's been in 
this house since Wednesday night, and this is 
Saturday morning. 

Beeler. 
Well, he's payin' his board, ain't he ? 

At window, rolls up curtain. 

Goin' to have just such another day as yesterday. 
Never seen such a fog. 

Martha. 
Never seen such a fog, eh ? 
Comes nearer and speaks mysteriously. 

Did you happen to notice how long that fog 
has been hangin' over this house ? 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 7 

Beeler. 
How long ? Why, since Thursday. 

Martha. 
No, sir, since Wednesday night. 

Beeler. 

Looking at her, astonished. 

Martha Beeler! You don't mean to say — he 
brought the fog ? 

She flounces out without answering. He lights lantern, with 
dubious head-shaking, and holds it up before the print 
portraits. 

Mornin', Mr. Darwin. Same to you, Mr. 
Spencer. Still keepin' things straight ? 

Grunts as he turns down his lantern, which is smoking. 

I guess not very. 

The hall door again opens, and Rhoda Williams, a girl of 
twenty, enters, with Annie Beeler, a child of ten. Rhoda 
is running, with Annie in laughing pursuit. 

Rhoda. 

Taking refuge behind the table. 

King's X! 



8 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Annie. 

Catching her. 

You didn't have your fingers crossed. 

Rhoda. 

Turning Annie about, and beginning to button the child 's 
long slip. 

And you didn't have your dress buttoned. 

Annie. 
That doesn't count. 

Rhoda. 
Yes, it does, before breakfast ! 

Beeler. 

At the outer door. 

How does your aunt strike you this morning ? 
Rhoda. 

Sobered. 

She seems wonderfully better. 

Beeler. 
Better ! 

Rhoda. 

I don't mean her poor body. She's got past 
carine for that. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 9 

Beeler. 

With sarcasm. 

You mean in her mind, eh ? 

Rhoda. 
Yes, I mean better in her mind. 

Beeler. 

Because of what this fellow has been sayin' to 
her, I suppose. 

Rhoda. 

Yes, because of that. 

Beeler. 

As he puts on an old fur cap. 
An out-and-out fakir ! 

Rhoda. 
You don't know him. 

Beeler. 

I suppose you do, after forty-eight hours. What 
in the name of nonsense is he, anyway ? And 
this deaf and dumb Indian boy he drags around 
with him. What's his part in the show? 



io THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda. 
I know very little about either of them. But I 
know Mr. Michaelis is not — what you say. 

Beeler. 
Well, he's a crank at the best of it. He's worked 
your aunt up now so's she can't sleep. You 
brought him here, and you've got to get rid of him. 
Exit by outer door, with inarticulate grumblings, among 
which can be distinguished. 

Hump! Ulrich Michaelis! There's a name for 
you. 

Annie. 
What's a fakir ? 
Rhoda does not answer. 

Cousin Rho, what's a fakir ? 
Rhoda. 

Humoring her. 

A man, way off on the other side of the world, 

in India, who does strange things. 

Annie. 

What kind of things ? 

Rhoda. 

Well, for instance, he throws a rope up in the 
air, right up in the empty air, with nothing for 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER n 

it to catch on, and then — he — climbs — up — 
the — rope ! 

Annie. 
Don't he fall ? 

Rhoda shakes her head in portentous negation. 
Steps are heard descending the stairs. The child fidgets 
nervously. 

Annie. 
Listen ! He's coming down ! 

Rhoda. 
Yes, he's coming down, right out of the blue sky. 

Annie. 

In a panic. 
Let me go. 

She breaks away and retreats to the hall door, watching the 
stair door open, and Ulrich Michaelis enter. Thereupon, 
with a glance of frightened curiosity, she flees. Michaelis 
is a man of twenty-eight or thirty, and his dark, emaciated 
face, wrinkled by sun and wind, looks older. His abu?idant 
hair is worn longer than common. His frame, though 
slight, is powerful, and his way of handling himself has the 
freedom and largeness which come from much open-air life. 
There is nevertheless something nervous and restless in his 
movements. He has a trick of handling things, putting 
them down only to take them up again immediately, before 
renouncing them for good. His face shows the effect of 
sleeplessness, and his gray flannel shirt and dark, coarse 
clothing are rumpled and neglected. 



12 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda. 

As he enters. 
Good morning. 

MlCHAELIS. 
Watching Annie's retreat. 
Is — is that child afraid of me ? 

Rhoda. 

As she adds the finishing touches to the breakfast table. 

Oh, Annie's a queer little body. She has her 
mother's nerves. And then she sees no one, 
living here on the back road. If this dreadful 
fog ever lifts, you'll see that, though we're quite 
near town, it's almost as if we were in the wil- 
derness. 

The stair door opens, and an Indian boy, about sixteen years 
old, enters. He is dressed in ordinaty clothes ; his dark 
skin, longish hair, and the noiseless tread of his moccasined 
feet, are the only suggestions of his race. He bows to 
Rhoda, who returns his salutation ; then, with a glance at 
Michaelis, he goes out doors. 

Rhoda nods toward the closing door. 

It's really him Annie's afraid of. He's like a 
creature from another world, to her. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 13 

MlCHAELIS. 
Looks at her in an odd, startled way. 
Another world ? 

Rhoda. 

Oh, you're used to his people. Your father was 
a missionary to the Indians, you told me. 



Yes. 
Where ? 
At Acoma. 
Where is that ? 



MlCHAELIS. 

Rhoda. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Rhoda. 



MlCHAELIS. 
Standing near the wall map, touches it. 
In New Mexico, by the map. 

Rhoda. 

Comes nearer. 
What is it like ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

It's — as you say — another world. 



i 4 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda. 
Describe it to me. 

MlCHAELIS. 

I couldn't make you see it. It's — centuries 
and centuries from our time. — And since I 
came here, since I entered this house, it has 
seemed centuries away from my own life. 

Rhoda. 
My life has seemed far off, too — my old life — 

MlCHAELIS. 

What do you mean by your old life ? 
Rhoda. 

She breaks out impulsively. 

I mean — I mean — . Three days ago I was like 
one dead ! I walked and ate and did my daily 
tasks, but — I wondered sometimes why people 
didn't see that I was dead, and scream at me. 

MlCHAELIS. 

It was three days ago that I first saw you. 

Rhoda. 
Yes. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 15 

MlCHAELIS. 

Three nights ago, out there in the moonlit 
country. 

Rhoda. 
Yes. 

MlCHAELIS. 

You were unhappy, then ? 

Rhoda. 

The dead are not unhappy, and I was as one 
dead. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Why was that? 

Rhoda. 

I think we die more than once when things are 
too hard and too bitter. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Have things here been hard and bitter? 

Rhoda. 

No. All that was before I came here! But it 
had left me feeling — . The other night, as I 
walked through the streets of the town, the 
people seemed like ghosts to me, and I myself 
like a ghost. 



16 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

MlCHAELIS. 

I cannot think of you as anything but glad and 
free. 

Rhoda. 

When you met me on the road, and walked 
home with me, and said those few words, it was 
as if, all of a sudden, the dead dream was 
shattered, and I began once more to live. 
Bell rings. 
That is Aunt Mary's bell. 

Rhoda goes out by the hall door, wheeling the invalid chair. 
Martha enters from the kitchen, carrying a steaming coffee- 
pot and a platter of smoking meat, which she places on the 
table. Michaelis bows to her. 

Martha. 
Snappishly. 

Hope you slept well ! 

She goes to the outer door, rings the breakfast bell loudly, and 
exit to kitchen. Rhoda enters, wheeling Mrs. Beeler in 
an invalid chair. Mrs. Beeler is a woman of forty, slight 
of body, with hair just beginning to silver. Her face has 
the curious refineme?it which physical suffering sometimes 
brings. Annie lingers at the door, looking timidly at 
Michaelis, as he approaches Mrs. Beeler and takes her hand 
from the arm of the chair. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 17 

MlCHAELIS. 

You are better ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Speaks with low intensity. 
Much, much better. 

He pats her hand gently back on the chair arm. Martha 
enters with other dishes. She pours out coffee, putting a 
cup at each plate. Mr. Beeler has entered from the kitchen, 
and the boy from outside. Beeler, with a glance of annoy- 
ance at his wife and Michaelis, sits down at the head of the 
table. Rhoda pushes Mrs. Beeler 's chair to the foot of 
the table and stands feeding her, eating her own breakfast 
meanwhile. 

Michaelis sits at Mrs. Beeler' 's right, Martha opposite. At 
Mr. Beeler's right is the Indian boy, at his left Annie's 
vacant chair. Martha beckons to Annie to come to the 
table, but the child, eyeing the strangers, refuses, taking a 
chair behind her mother by the mantelpiece. Mrs. Beeler 
speaks after the meal has progressed for some time in silence. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Mat, you haven't said good morning to our 
guest. 

Beeler. 

Gruffly. 

How are you ? 

He helps himself to meat and passes it to the others ; the plate 
goes round the table. There is a constrained silence. 
c 



18 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Annie tugs at Rhoda's skirt, and asks in dumb show to 
have her breakfast given her. Rhoda fills the child's plate, 
with which she retreats to her place by the mantel. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Why doesn't Annie come to the table ? 

She tries to look around. Rhoda whispers to Mrs. Beeler, 
who looks at her, puzzled. 

Why doesn't Annie come ? 

Rhoda. 
She's afraid. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Afraid ! What is she afraid of ? 

Rhoda. 
You know how shy she is, before strangers. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Annie, please come here ! Annie ! 

The child refuses, pouting, and gazing at Michaelis. 

Rhoda. 
I wouldn't urge her. She doesn't want to come. 

Martha. 

Trenchantly. 
Don't blame her ! 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 19 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Gently reproving. 
Martha ! 

MlCHAELIS. 
Holding out his hand to Annie. 
Won't you come here, my child ? 
Annie approaches slowly, as if hypnotized. 
You're not afraid of me, are you ? 

Annie. 
Shyly. 

Not if you won't climb up the rope. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Puzzled. 

Climb up what rope ? 

Rhoda. 

It's a story I was foolish enough to tell her. 
— Do eat something, Auntie. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
I'll drink a little more tea. 
Rhoda raises the cup to Mrs. Beeler 's lips. 

Beeler. 
You can't live on tea, Mary. 



2o THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Martha. 

I guess she can live on tea better than on some 

things ! 

With a resentful glance at Michaelis. 

Some things that some folks seem to live on, 
and expect other folks to live on. 

Michaelis looks up from Annie, who has been whispering in 
his ear, Beeler nods at Martha in covert approval, as she 
takes up dishes and goes into the kitchen. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Leans forward across the table to Michaelis. 

Don't mind my sister-in-law, Mr. Michaelis. 
It's her way. She means nothing by it. 

Beeler. 

Between gulps of coffee, as he finishes his meal. 

Don't know as you've got any call to speak for 
Martha. She generally means what she says, 
and I guess she means it now. And what's 
more, I guess I do, too! 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Beseechingly. 

Mat! 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 21 

Beeler. 

Throws down his napkin and rises. 

Very well. It's none of my business, I reckon, 

as long as it keeps within reason. 

He puts on his cap and goes out through the kitchen. 

Annie. 
To Michaelis, continuing the whispered conversation. 

And if you do climb up the rope, do you prom- 
ise to come down. 

Michaelis. 
Yes, I promise to come down. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Leans over her plate. The others bow their heads. 

Bless this food to our use, and this day to our 
strength and our salvation. 

Rhoda. 
As they lift their heads. 

Perhaps it will be light enough now without 
the lamp. 

Michaelis, holding Annie's hand, rises, goes to the window, 
and rolls up the shades, while Rhoda extinguishes the lamp. 
The fog is still thick, and the light which enters is dull. 



22 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda unpins the napkin from her aunt's breast, and 
wheels her back from the table. The boy crouches down 
by the grate, Indian fashion. Annie looks at him with shy, 
half -frightened interest. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Gazing out, from where she sits reclining. 

The blessed sun ! I never thought to see it 
rise again so beautiful. 

Rhoda. 

Looks at her aunt, puzzled and alarmed. 

But, Auntie, there isn't any sun ! It's — 

She breaks off, seeing Michaelis place his finger on his lips 
as a signal for her to be silent. Mrs. Beeler turns to 
Rhoda, puzzled. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
There isn't any sun ? Why — 
Rhoda pre te fids not to hear. Mrs. Beeler turns to Michaelis. 
What does she mean by saying there is no sun? 

Michaelis. 
She means she doesn't see it. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Still puzzled. 

But — you see it, don't you? 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 23 

MlCHAELIS. 

I see the same sun that you see. 
Mrs. Beeler. 

Looks again at Rkoda, then dismisses her wonderment, and 
looks out at the window dreamily. 

Another day — and to-morrow the best of all 
the days of the year. 

Annie. 
What day is to-morrow ? 
She leaves Michaelis and comes to her mother's side. 
What day is to-morrow ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

With exultation in her voice. 

My child, to-morrow is the most wonderful and 
the most beautiful day of all the year. The 
day when — all over the whole world — there is 
singing in the air, and everything rises into new 
life and happiness. 

Annie. 
Fretfully. 

Mamma, I don't understand ! What day is to- 
morrow ? 



24 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Mrs. Beeler. 
To-morrow is Easter. 

Annie. 
With sudden interest. 
Easter ! Can I have some eggs to color ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Ask Aunt Martha. 

Annie. 

Singsong, as she skips out. 

Eggs to color ! Eggs to color ! 

Rhoda has meanwhile fetched a large tray from the cupboard 
and has been piling the dishes noiselessly upon it. 

Rhoda. 
Shall I wheel you in, Aunt Mary? 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Yes, please. 

Rhoda wheels the chair toward the hall door, which Michaelis 
opens. Mrs. Beeler gazes at him as she passes. 

Will you come in soon, and sit with me ? There 
is so much that I want to hear. 

Michaelis. 
Whenever you are ready. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 25 

Mrs. Beeler. 
I will ring my bell. 

As they go out, Martha bustles in, gathers up the dish tray 
and is about to depart, with a vindictive look. At the 
door she turns, and jerks her head toward the boy. 

Martha. 

Is it against the law to work where he comes 
from ? 

MlCHAELIS. 
Abstractedly. 

What? — No. 

Martha. 

Then he might as well do me some chores. 
Not but right, payin' only half board. 

MlCHAELIS. 
To the boy. 

Do whatever she tells you. 

The boy follows Martha out. Michaelis stands by the win- 
dow in thought. As Rhoda reenters, he looks up. He 
speaks significantly, with suppressed excitement. 

She saw the sun ! 

Rhoda. 
Poor dear Auntie ! 



26 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

MlCHAELIS. 

You pity her? 

Rhoda. 

After an instant's silence, during which she ponders her reply. 

I think I envy her. 

She removes the cloth from the table, and begins deftly to put 
the room in order. Michaelis watches her with a kind of 
vague intentness. 

Michaelis. 
How long did you say she had been sick ? 

Rhoda. 
More than four years — nearly five. 

Michaelis. 
She has never walked in that time ? 

Rhoda. 

Shakes her head. 

Nor used her right hand, either. 
Michaelis. 

With intensity. 

Are you certain ? 

Rhoda. 

Surprised at his tone. 

Yes — I haven't lived here long, but I am 
certain. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 27 

MlCHAELIS. 

She has tried medicine, doctors? 

Rhoda. 

Uncle has spent everything he could earn on 
them. She has been three times to the min- 
eral baths, once as far as Virginia. 

MlCHAELIS. 

But never as far as Bethesda. 

Rhoda. 
Bethesda? Where is that? 

MlCHAELIS. 

The pool, which is called Bethesda, having five 
porches. 

Rhoda. 

Oh, yes. The pool in the Bible, where once a 
year an angel troubled the waters, and the sick 
and the lame and the blind gathered, hoping to 
be healed. 

MlCHAELIS. 

And whoever first, after the troubling of the 
waters, stepped in, he was made whole of what- 
soever disease he had. 



28 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda. 

If anybody could find the way there again, it 

would be Aunt Mary. 

Pause. 

And if anybody could show her the way it 
would be — you. 

She goes on in a different tone, as if to escape from the em- 
barrassment of her last speech. 

Her saying just now she saw the sun. She 
often says things like that. Have you noticed ? 

Michaelis. 
Yes. 

Rhoda. 

With hesitation. 

Her brother Seth — the one who died — has 
she told you about him ? 

Michaelis. 
Yes. 

Rhoda. 
What she thinks happens — since — he died? 
Michaelis nods assent. 

And yet in most other ways her mind is per- 
fectly clear. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 29 

MlCHAELIS. 

Perhaps in this way it is clearer still. 

Rhoda. 
Startled. 

You mean — that maybe she really does — see 
her brother ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

It may be. 

Rhoda. 

It would make the world a very different — a 
very strange place, if that were true. 

MlCHAELIS. 

The world is a very strange place. 
Pause. 

Rhoda. 

Tell me a little about your life. That seems 
to have been very strange. 

MlCHAELIS. 
Vaguely, as he seats himself by the table. 

I don't know. I can hardly remember what 
my life was. 



3 o THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda. 
Why is that ? 

MlCHAELIS. 
Gazing at her. 

Because, since I came into this house, I have 
seen the vision of another life. 

Rhoda. 

With hesitation. 
What — other life ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Since my boyhood I have been — 

He hesitates. 

I have been a wanderer, almost a fugitive — . 
And I never knew it, till now — I never knew 
it till — I looked into your face ! 

Rhoda. 

Avoiding his gaze. 

How should that make you know ? 

MlCHAELIS. 
Leans nearer. 

All my life long I have walked in the light of 
something to come, some labor, some mission, I 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 31 

have scarcely known what — but I have risen 
with it and lain down with it, and nothing else 
has existed for me. — Nothing, until — I lifted 
my eyes and you stood there. The stars looked 
down from their places, the earth wheeled on 
among the stars. Everything was as it had 
been, and nothing was as it had been ; nor ever, 
ever can it be the same again. 

Rhoda. 

In a low and agitated voice. 

You must not say these things to me. You are — 

I am not — . You must not think of me so. 

Michaelis. 

I must think of you as I must. 

Pause. Rhoda speaks in a lighter tone, as if to relieve the 
tension of their last words. 

Rhoda. 

Tell me a little of your boyhood. — What was 
it like — that place where you lived ? 

Michaelis. 

Becomes absorbed in his own ryiental pictures as he speaks. 
A great table of stone, rising five hundred feet 
out of the endless waste of sand. A little 



32 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

adobe house, halfway up the mesa, with the 
desert far below and the Indian village far above. 
A few peach trees, and a spring — a sacred 
spring, which the Indians worshipped in secret. 
A little chapel, which my father had built with 
his own hands. He often spent the night 
there, praying. And there, one night, he died. 
I found him in the morning, lying as if in quiet 
prayer before the altar. 

Rhoda. 

After a moment's hush. 

What did you do after your father died ? 

Michaelis. 

I went away south, into the mountains, and got 
work on a sheep range. I was a shepherd for 
five years. 

Rhoda. 

And since then? 

Michaelis. 

Hesitates. 

Since then I have — wandered about, working 
here and there to earn enough to live on. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 33 

Rhoda. 

I understand well why men take up that life. 
I should love it myself. 

Michaelis. 
I didn't do it because I loved it. 

Rhoda. 
Why, then ? 

Michaelis. 

I was waiting my time. 

Rhoda. 
In a low tone. 

Your time — for what ? 

Michaelis. 
To fulfil my life — my real life. 

Rhoda. 
Your — real life ? 

He sits absorbed in thought without answering. Rhoda 
continues, after a long pause. 

There in the mountains, when you were a shep- 
herd — that was not your real life ? 

D 



34 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

MlCHAELIS. 

It was the beginning of it. 

Rhoda. 

With hesitation. 

Won't you tell me a little about that time ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

In the fall I would drive the sheep south, through 
the great basin which sloped down into Mexico, 
and in the spring back again to the mountains. 

Rhoda. 
Were you all alone ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

There were a few men on the ranges, but they 
were no more to me than the sheep — not so 
much. 

Rhoda. 

Weren't you dreadfully lonely ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

No. 

Rhoda. 

You hadn't even any books to read ? 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 35 

MlCHAELIS. 
Takes a book from his coat pocket. 

I had this pocket Bible, that had been my 

father's. I read that sometimes. But always 

in a dream, without understanding, without 

remembering. 

His excitement increases. 

Yet there came a time when whole chapters 
started up in my mind, as plain as if the printed 
page were before me, and I understood it all, 
both the outer meaning and the inner. 

Rhoda. 
And you didn't know what made the difference ? 

MlCHAELIS. 



Yes. 

What was it ? 



Rhoda. 



MlCHAELIS. 

I can't tell you that. 

Rhoda. 
Oh, yes! 

MlCHAELIS. 

There are no words to tell of it. 



36 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda. 

Yet tell me. I need to know. Believe me, I 
need to know ! 

Michaelis. 

Slowly, groping for his words. 

It was one morning in the fourth spring. We 
were back in the mountains again. It was 
lambing time, and I had been up all night. 
Just before sunrise, I sat down on a rock to 
rest. Then — it came. 

Rhoda. 
What came ? 

He does not answer. 

You saw something? 

He nods for yes. 

What was it ? 

Michaelis. 

Rises, lifting his arms, a prey to uncontrollable excitement. 
The living Christ ! — Standing before me on the 
mountain, amid the grazing sheep. — With these 
eyes and in this flesh, I saw Him. 
Long pause. 

Rhoda. 

In a low tone. 

You had fallen asleep. It was a dream. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 37 

MlCHAELIS. 
Shakes his head in negation. 
That wasn't all. 
He turns away. She follows him, and speaks after a silence. 

Rhoda. 

Tell me the rest. What happened to you, 
after — after what you saw — that morning in 
the mountains ? 

MlCHAELIS. 
Begins to talk slowly and reluctantly. 
I lived straight ahead, with the sheep for two 
years. 

Rhoda. 

Hesitating. 

Did you ever see anything again ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

No. — But twice — I heard a voice. 

Rhoda. 
What kind of a voice ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

The first time it came at night. I was walking 
on the top of the mountain, in a stony place. 
It — it was like a wind among: the stones. 



38 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Rhoda. 
What did it say ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

It said, " Prepare ! Prepare ! " 

Rhoda. 
And the second time ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

In the same place, at dawn. The voice said, 
" Go forth, it is finished ! " I looked round me 
and saw nothing. Then it came again, like a 
wind among the stones, " Go forth, it is begun ! " 

Rhoda. 
And you obeyed ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

I found a man to take my place, and started 
north. Three days after, I climbed the mesa 
toward my old home. Above, in the pueblo, I 
heard the sound of tom-toms and wailing squaws. 
They told me that the young son of the chief 
lay dead in my father's chapel. I sat beside him 
all day and all night. Just before daylight — 
He breaks off abruptly. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 39 

Rhoda. 
Go on! 

MlCHAELIS. 

Just before daylight, when the other watchers 
were asleep, the power of the spirit came strong 
upon me. I bowed myself upon the boy's body, 
and prayed. My heart burned within me, for I 
felt his heart begin to beat ! His eyes opened. 
I told him to arise, and he arose. He that was 
dead arose and was alive again ! 

Pause. Mrs. Beeler's bell rings. Michaelis starts, looks 
about him as if awakened from a dream, then slowly goes 
toward the hall door. Rhoda follows and detains him. 

Rhoda. 
In a low tone. 

How long had he lain — for dead? 

Michaelis. 
Three days. 

Rhoda. 

With hesitation. 

I have heard that people have lain as long as 
that in a trance, breathing so lightly that it 
could not be told, except by holding a glass 
before the face. 



4 o THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

MlCHAELIS. 
Startled. 

Is that true ? 

Rhoda. 
I have read so. 

MlCHAELIS. 

I wonder — I wonder. 

He stands in deep thought. 

But I have had other signs. 

Rhoda. 
What other signs ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Many, many. Up and down the land ! 

Pause. 

I wonder. — I — I almost wish it were so ! 

With bent head he goes out. Rhoda stands looking after him 
until the inner door closes, then sits before the fire in revery. 
Beeler comes in from the barn. He wears his old fur cap, 
and holds in one hand a bulky Sunday newspaper, in the 
other some battered harness, an awl, twine, and wax, which 
he deposits on the window seat. He lays the paper on the 
table, and unfolds from it a large colored print, which he 
holds up and looks at with relish. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 41 

Beeler. 

These Sunday papers do get up fine supple- 
ments. I wouldn't take money for that picture. 

Rhoda. 

Looks at it absently. 

What does it mean ? 

Beeler. 

Reads. 

" Pan and the Pilgrim." Guess you never 
heard of Pan, did you ? 

Rhoda. 
Yes. One of the old heathen gods. 

Beeler. 

Call him heathen if you like ! The folks that 
worshipped him thought he was orthodox, I 
guess. 

He pins up the print, which represents a paltrier of crusading 
times surprised in the midst of a forest by the god Pan. 

Rhoda. 
What does the picture mean ? 



42 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Beeler. 

Well, Pan there, he was a kind of a nature god. 
The old Romans thought him out, to stand for 
a lot of things. 

Rhoda. 

What kind of things ? 

Beeler. 

Natural things, with plenty of sap and mischief 
in 'em. Growin' plants, and frisky animals, and 
young folks in love. 
He points to the figure of Pan, then to the Pilgrim, as he talks. 

There he sits playin' Jenny-come-kiss-me on his 
dod-gasted mouth-organ, when along comes one 
of them fellows out of a monastery, with religion 
on the brain. Pikin' for Jerusalem, to get a 
saint's toe-nail and a splinter of the true cross. 

Martha enters from the kitchen and potters about the room 
" redding up" 

Look at him ! Do you think he'll ever get to 
Jerusalem ? Not this trip ! He hears the 
pipes o' Pan. He hears women callin' and 
fiddles squeakin' love-tunes in the woods. It'll 
take more than a monk's robe on his back and 
a shaved head on his shoulders to keep him, 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 43 

straight, I reckon. He'll call to mind that 

young fellows had blood in their veins when 

Adam was a farmer, and whoop-la! he'll be off 

to the county fair, to dance ring-around-a-rosy 

with Matildy Jane ! 

Pause, as he takes off Ms cap and lights his pipe. 

Like to see our friend Michaelis meet up with 

Mr. Pan. Don't believe Michaelis ever looked 

cross-eyed at a girl. 

He examines Rhoda quizzically. 

You wouldn't make up bad as Matildy Jane 

yourself, Rho, but sufferin' Job, he can't tell the 

difference between crow's feet and dimples ! 

Martha. 

Don't you be so sure! 

Beeler. 

Hello! Dan'el come to judgment! Never 
seen an old maid yet that couldn't squeeze a 
love story out of a flat-iron. 

Martha. 

I may be an old maid, and you may be an old 
wind-bag, but I've got eyes in my head. 
To Rhoda. 



44 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Where did you meet up with him, anyway ? 

Rhoda, plunged in thought, does not a?iswer. 

Beeler. 

Wake up, Rhody! Marthy asked you where 
you met up with our new boarder. 

Rhoda. 
On the road, coming home from the village. 

Beeler. 
What made you bring him here ? 

Rhoda. 

He wanted a quiet place to stay, and this was 
the best I knew. 

Martha. 

Guess it was ! — A snap for him. 
She goes out by the hall door. 

Rhoda. 

Rises, takes the lamp off the mantel, and during the following 
cleans and refills it. 

Beeler. 

As he takes off his coat, and hangs it up. 
Rhody, ain't this religious business rather a new 
thing with you ? Up there in St. Louis, didn't 
go in for it much up there, did you ? 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 45 

Rhoda. 

Looks at him quickly. 
Why do you ask that ? 

Beeler. 

Oh, I gathered, from things I heard, that you 
cared more about dancin' than about prayin', 
up there. 
She turns away. 

That young fellow that was so sweet on you in 
St. Louis year before last, he wa'n't much in the 
psalm-singin' line, was he ? 

Rhoda. 

Startled and pale. 

Who told you about him ? 

Beeler. 

Oh, Mary's friends, the Higginses, used to write 
us about your affairs. We thought it would be 
a hitch-up, sure as shootin'. Studyin' to be a 
doctor, wasn't he ? 

Rhoda. 

Uncle, please never speak to me about him 
again ! 



46 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Beeler. 

All right, all right, my girl. I've been young 
myself, and I know youth is touchy as a gum- 
boil when it comes to love affairs. So it's all 
off, is it? 

Rhoda. 
Yes. 

Beeler. 

Sits down to mend the harness. 

If you're partial to the pill trade, we've got a 
brand new doctor in town now. Took old 
Doctor Martin's place. He'll be up here to see 
Mary in a day or two, and you can look him 
over. 

Rhoda. 
What is his name ? 

Beeler. 
Tries in vain to recall it. 

Blamed if I can remember. Only seen him 
once. But I tell you, he's smart as tacks. 
Chuck full of Jamaica ginger. The very kind 
I'd have swore you'd take to, a while back, be- 
fore you lost your fun and your spirit. When 
I first saw you on your father's farm out in Kan- 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 47 

sas, you was as wild a little gypsy as I ever set 
eyes on. I said then to your dad, " There's a 
filly that'll need a good breakin'." I never 
thought I'd see you takin' up with these Gospel 
pedlers. 

Martha comes in from the hall and fusses about, dusting, etc. 
She points in the direction of Mrs. Beeler" s room. 

Martha. 

They're prayer-meetin' it again. And Mary 
lyin' there as if she saw the pearly gates openin' 
before her eyes. 

Beeler. 

Half to himself as he works. 

Poor Mary ! — Mary's a strange woman. 

Martha. 
To Rhoda. 

Your mother was the same way, Rhody. The 
whole Beardsley tribe, for that matter. But 
Mary was the worst. It begun with Mary as 
soon as her brother Seth got drowned. 



Beeler. 



Looks up, angry. 

None of that, Sis ! 



48 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Martha. 
I guess my tongue's my own. 

Beeler. 

No, it ain't. I won't have any more of that 
talk around me, do you hear? I put my foot 
down a year ago. 

Martha. 

Points to his foot derisively. 

It's big enough and ugly enough, Heaven knows, 
but you can put it down as hard as you like, it 
won't keep a man's sperrit in his grave — not 
when he's a mind to come out! 

Beeler. 

Astonished. 

Martha Beeler ! 

Martha. 
That's my name. 

She flounces out into the kitchen, covering her retreat with 
her last speech. 

Beeler. 

Looking after her. 

My kingdom! Martha! I thought she had 
some horse sense left. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 49 

Rhoda. 

Slowly, as she finishes with the lamp. 

Uncle, it's hard to live side by side with Aunt 

Mary and not — 

Beeler. 
In angry challenge. 

And not what? 

Rhoda. 

And not believe there's something more in 
these matters than " horse sense " will account 
for. 

Beeler. 

Hotly, as if a sore point has been touched upon. 

There's nothing more than science will account 

for. 

He points to a shelf of books. 

You can read it up any day you like. Read 
that book yonder, chapter called Hallucinations. 
Pathological, that's what it is, pathological. 

Rhoda. 
What does that mean ? 
Beeler taps his forehead significantly. 
Uncle, you know that's not true! 



50 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Beeler. 

Growls to himself. 

Pathological, up and down. 

Rhoda replaces the lamp on the mantel. 
Martha opens the kitchen door and calls in. 

Martha. 
Here's Uncle Abe ! 

Beeler. 
Uncle Abe ? Thought he was a goner. 

Uncle Abe enters. He is an old negro, with gray hair and 
thin, gray beard. He is somewhat bowed, and carries a 
stick, but he is not decrepit. His clothes are spattered with 
mud. Martha enters with him ; she is stirring something 
in a bowl, and during the following continues to do so, 
though more and more interruptedly and absent-mindedly. 

Beeler. 
Hello, Uncle Abe. 

Uncle Abe. 
Good-mawnin', Mista Beeler. 

Beeler. 

Where've you been all winter ? Thought you'd 
gone up Salt River. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 51 

Uncle Abe. 

Shakes his head reassuringly. 

Ain' nevah goin' up no Salt River, yo' Uncle 
Abe ain't. 

Beeler. 

Indicating Rhoda. 

Make you acquainted with my wife's niece, 
Miss Williams. 
Uncle Abe bows. 

Rhoda. 

Pushing forward a chair. 

Sit down, Uncle. I don't see how you found 
your way in this dreadful fog. 

Uncle Abe. 

Fawg don' matta' nothin' to me, honey. Don' 

mean nothin' 'tall. 

He speaks with exaltation and restrained excitement. 



Yo' ol' Uncle keeps on tellin' 'em, dis hyah fawg 
an' darkness don' mean nothin' 'tall ! 

Rhoda and Martha look at him puzzled. 
Beeler, busy over his harness, has not been struck by the old 
negro's words. 

Beeler. 

How's the ginseng crop this year? 



52 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Uncle Abe. 
They ain' no mo' gimsing ! 

Beeler. 
No more ginseng ? What do you mean ? 

Uncle Abe. 

De good Lawd, he ain' goin' fool roun' no mo' 
wif no gimsing ! 

Beeler. 

Amused. 

Why, I thought your ginseng bitters was His 
main holt. 

Uncle Abe. 

With a touch of regret. 

Use to be, Mars' Beeler. It shore use to be. 

— Yes, sah. Bless de Lawd! 

Shakes his head in reminiscence. 

He sartinly did set sto' by them thah bitters. 

Beeler. 

With lazy amusement. 

So the Lord's gone back on ginseng now, has 
He? 

Uncle Abe. 
Yes, sah. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 53 

Beeler. 
What makes you think so ? 

Uncle Abe. 

Solemnly. 

Roots all kill by de fros' ! 

His manner grows more and more mysterious ; he half closes 
his eyes, as he goes on in a strange, mounting singsong. 

Knowed it more'n a monf ago, fo' dis hyah blin' 
worl' lef de plough in de ploughshare an' de un- 
groun' wheat betwixen de millstones, and went 
a-follerin' aftah dis hyah new star outen de Eas', 
like a bride follerin' aftah de bridegroom ! 
Martha taps her forehead significantly, and goes back to her 
batter. 

Beeler. 

New star, Uncle? Tell us about it. Sounds 
interesting. 

Uncle Abe. 

Stares at each of them in turn. 
Ain' you-all heerd ? 

Beeler. 
You've got the advantage of us. 

Uncle Abe. 
Ain' you-all heerd 'bout de Healer? 



54 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Beeler. 
Healer ? What kind of a healer ? 

Uncle Abe. 

With mounting indignation at Bedels tone. 

De Bible kin', dat's what kin' ! De kin' what 
makes de lame fer to walk, and de blin' fer to 
see, an' de daid fer to riz up outen their daid 
col' graves. That's what kin' ! Mean to say 
you-all ain' heerd nothin' 'bout him, you po' 
chillun o' dawkness ? 

Martha and Beeler look at each other in amazement. Rhoda 
sits looking at the old negro, white and tense with excite- 
ment. 

Beeler. 
Nope. 

Recollecting. 

Hold on ! 

Martha. 

To Beeler. 

Don't you remember, in the papers, two or 
three weeks ago? Where was it? Some- 
wheres out West. 

Beeler. 

Believe I did read some such goin's-on. Don't 
pay much attention to such nonsense. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 55 

Uncle Abe. 

Solemn and threatening. 

Tek keer, Mistah Beeler ! Tek keer what you 
say 'fore dese here cloudy witnesses. Don' you 
go cuttin' yo'self off from de Kingdom. Nor 
you, Mis' Martha, nor you, honey. Don' ye 
do it ! It's a-comin'. Yo' ol' Uncle Abe he's 
seen and heerd. 

Rhoda. 

Tell us quickly what you mean ! 

Uncle Abe. 

Mean jes' what I says, honey. Night fo' last, 
de Healer, he come, like's if he jes' plum' drop 
from de sky. 
More mysteriously. 

An' whar's he gone to ? You listen to yo' ol' 
Uncle Abe a-tellin' you. He ain' gone no- 
whars! He's jes' meechin' roun' in de fawg, 
a-waitin' fer de Lawd to call folks. En He's 
a-callin' 'em ! He's a-callin' 'em by tens an' by 
hundreds. Town's full a'ready, honey. Main 
Street look jes' lak a fiel' hospital, down Souf 
durin' de wah ! 



56 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Martha. 

Meeting Beeler's astonished look. 

What did I tell you? Maybe you'll listen to 

me next time. 

Rhoda. 

To Uncle Abe, in a low, agitated voice. 

This man you call the Healer — is he alone? 

Uncle Abe. 

No, honey; folks says he don' nevah go no- 
wheres by hisse'f. Always got that thah young 
man wif 'im what he raise from de daid. 

Beeler. 

Rises, with a shrug. 

Good evening ! 

He crosses to the portraits of Darwin and Spencer. 

You made quite a stir in your time, didn't you ? 

Well, it's all up with you ! 

Martha. 

In a voice strident with nervousness. 
Raised from the dead ? 

Uncle Abe. 

That's what they says, Mis' Martha. Folks 
calls 'im Laz'rus in ref'ence to de Bible chil' 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 57 

what riz up jes' same way lak', outen de daid 
col' tomb. 

The Indian boy enters from the kitchen, his shoes and trousers 
spattered with mud. Uncle Abe looks at him, then at the 
others, and whispers to Rhoda. Martha bustles forward, 
hiding her agitation in scolding speech. 

Martha. 

Well, did you get my coffee and my sal-soda? 
Lazarus points, without speaking, to the kitchen. 

Beeler. 
To Martha. 

Did you send him to the store ? 

Martha. 

Yes, I did send him to the store. If I had my 
way, I'd send him — further. 

The boy hesitates, then goes stolidly out by the stair door. 
Uncle Abe lifts his arm ecstatically. 

Uncle Abe. 

That's him ! I tell ye that's the chil' what's said 
"Howdy" to the daid folks down yonder. I'se 
seen 'im in my dreams, an' now I'se seen 'im 
wif dese hyah two eyes. — O Lawd, bless dis 
hyah house o' grace ! 



58 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Beeler. 

I guess it's about time that fellow come out and 
exploded some of this tomfoolery. 
He starts towards his wife's room. 

Rhoda. 

Stopping him. 

Please don't. 

Beeler. 
Peevishly. 

There's got to be an end to this hoodoo busi- 
ness in my house. 

Annie enters from the kitchen, dabbled with dye. She holds 
two colored eggs in her hands. 

Annie. 
Look! I've colored two. 

Martha. 
Good gracious, child. What a mess 1 

Annie. 

Pa! Play crack with me! Just once, to see 
how it goes. 

Beeler. 

Go in and ask your mother if she'll let you. 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 59 

Annie, her eggs in her apron, opens the hall door. About to 
pass out, she stops, drops the eggs with a scream, and runs 
back, gazing towards the hall as she takes refuge behind 
Rhoda , s skirts. 

Annie. 
Pa ! Auntie ! Ma's walking ! 

Mrs. Beeler enters, walking uncertainly, her face full of in- 
tense exaltation. Michaelis comes just behind her, trans- 
figured by spiritual excitement. 

Beeler and Martha. 

Starting forward. 

Mary! 

Rhoda. 
Aunt Mary ! 

Mrs. Beeler advances into the room, reaching out her hand 
to Annie, who takes it in speechless fright. She bends over 
and kisses the child's head, then stretches out her other 
hand to her husband. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Mat, I'm cured! The Lord has heard our 
prayers, for His saint's sake. 

Beeler. 

Why, Mary, I can't believe this — it's too — it's 
not possible ! 



60 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT I 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Looking at Michaelis. 

It is written that he who has faith, even as a 
grain of mustard seed — . I have had faith. 

Martha. 

Law, you've had faith enough any time these 
five years, Mary. There was something else 
wanting, 'pears to me. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

There was wanting the word of true belief, say- 
ing, "Suffer no more! Stoop and drink of the 
waters of mercy and healing." 

Outside, the shrill soprano of a woman is heard, taking lip a 
hymn. At the sound Michaelis goes to the window. He 
stands rigid, listening to the hymn to the end of the verse, 
when other voices join in the chorus. The fog has partially 
cleared. 

Michaelis. 

Turning slowly to J? ho da. 

Who are they ? 

Rhoda. 
Sick people. 

Michaelis. 

How did they find out I was here ? 



ACT I] THE FAITH HEALER 61 

Rhoda. 

It was known you were somewhere near. — 
They have been gathering for days. — They 
saw the boy, just now, in the village. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Comes a step or two nearer Michaelis. 

Your great hour is at hand ! 

He looks distractedly about. The light has faded from his 
face, giving place to strong nervous agitation, resembling 
fear. He speaks as if to himself. 

Michaelis. 
My hour ! — My hour ! — And I — and I — ! 

He puts his hand over his eyes, as if to shut out some vision 
of dread. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

You will not fail them ? You cannot fail them, 
now. 

Michaelis looks at Mrs. Beeler, then for a long time at Rhoda. 
He gathers himself together, and gazes steadfastly before 
him, as at some unseen presence. 

No. — I have waited so long. I have had such 
deep assurances. — I must not fail. I must not 
fail. 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 



ACT II 

Late afternoon of the same day. 

Mrs. Beeler sits in a low chair near the window. She has 
ceased reading the Testament, which lies open in her lap. 

Uncle Abe sits on the floor with Annie. They are playing 
with building blocks, piling lip and tearing down various 
ambitious structures. Rhoda enters from outside, with 
hat and cloak, carrying a large bunch of Easter lilies. 

Rhoda. 

Kissing her aunt. 

Still sitting up! You're not strong enough yet 

to do this. See, I've brought you some Easter 

lilies. 

She hands one to Mrs. Beeler. As she takes off her things, 
she sees the old Negro gazing at her. 

Well, Uncle Abe? 

Uncle Abe. 

I's awake an' a-watchin', honey! 

He turns again to the child, shaking his head as at some un- 
spoken thought, while Rhoda arranges the flowers in a vase. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Rhoda ! 

Rhoda. 
Yes, Aunt Mary? 

F 65 



66 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Come here. 

Rhoda approaches. Mrs. Beeler speaks low, with suppressed 
excitement. 

What is the news, outside ? 

Rhoda. 

You mustn't excite yourself. You must keep 
your strength. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

I shall be strong enough. — Are the people still 
gathering from the town ? 

Rhoda. 
Yes, and they keep coming in from other places. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Are there many of them ? 

Rhoda. 

Many! Many! It's as if the whole world 
knew. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

The more there are, the greater will be the 
witness. — Pause. When do you think he will 
go out to them? 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 67 

Rhoda. 
They believe he is waiting for Easter morning. 

Martha enters from kitchen, with bonnet and shawl on, and 
a large basket in her hand. 

Martha. 

Mary, you'd ought to be abed. You're tempt- 
ing Providence. 

She takes off her bonnet and shawl, and deposits the basket. 

I saw your doctor down in the village, and he 
allowed he'd come up to see you this afternoon. 
He was all on end about your bein' able to walk. 

Rhoda. 
I didn't know till to-day you had a doctor. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Yes. He's a young man who's just come here 
to build up a practice. 

Martha. 
To Rhoda. 

You better finish packin' the basket. There's 
a lot o' hungry mouths to feed out yonder. 

Exit by hall door. Rhoda continues the preparation of the 
basket, taking articles from the cupboard and packing 



68 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

them. Annie has climbed on a chair by the picture of Pan 
and the Pilgrim. She points at the figure of Pan. 

Annie. 
Uncle Abe, tell me who that is. 

Uncle Abe. 
Glancing at Mrs. Beeler and Rhoda. 

H'sh! 

Annie. 

What's he doing up there in the bushes, blow- 
ing on that funny whistle ? 

Uncle Abe. 

Look hyah, chil', you jus' wastin' my time. I 
got frough wif dis hyah fool pictuh long 'go ! 
He tries to draw her away ; she resists. 

Annie. 

Petulantly. 

Uncle Abe ! Who is it ? 

Uncle Abe. 

Whispers, makes big eyes. 

That thah's Ole Nick, that's who that thah is! 
That thah's de Black Man ! 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 69 

Annie, terror-stricken, jumps down and retreats to her moth- 
er's chair. Mrs. Beeler rouses from her revery and 
strokes her child's head. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Oh, my child, how happy you are to see this 
while you are so young ! You will never forget, 
will you, dear ? 

Annie. 

Fidgeting. 

Forget what? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Tell me that whatever happens to you in the 
world, you won't forget that once, when you 
were a little girl, you saw the heavens standing 
open, and felt that God was very near, and full 
of pity for His children. 

Annie. 

I don't know what you're talking about ! I can't 
hardly breathe the way people are in this house. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

You will understand, some day, what wonderful 
things your childish eyes looked on. 

Annie retreats to Uncle Abe, who bends over the child and 
whispers in her ear. She grows amused, and begins to 
sway as to a tune, then chants. 



70 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Annie. 
" Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, 
Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, 
Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, 
Ring dem charmin' bells." 
As she finishes the rhyjne she runs out into the hall. Mrs. 
Beeler begins again to read her Testament. The old negro 
approaches Mrs. Beeler and Rhoda, and speaks myste- 
riously. 

Uncle Abe. 
That thah chil' she's talkin' sense. They's 
sumpin' ain't right about dis hyah house. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Not right ? What do you mean ? 
Uncle Abe. 

Shakes his head dubiously. 

Dunno, Mis' Beeler. I's jes' a ole fool colored 
pusson, been waitin' fer de great day what de 
'Postle done promise. En hyah's de great day 
'bout to dawn, an' de Lawd's Chosen 'bout to 
show Hisse'f in clouds o' glory 'fore de worl', an' 
lo 'n' behol' — 
He leans closer and whispers. 

de Lawd's Chosen One, he's done got a spell 
on 'im! 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 71 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Shocked and startled. 

Uncle Abe ! 

Uncle Abe. 

Pointing at the Pan and the Pilgrim. 

Why do you keep that thah pictuh nail up thah 
fur? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

My husband likes it. 

Uncle Abe. 

Mighty funny kin' o' man, like to hev de Black 
Man lookin' pop-eyed at folks all day an' all 
night, puttin' de spell on folks ! 

Mrs. Beeler. 
That's not the Black Man. 

Uncle Abe. 

That's him, shore's yo' born ! Jes' what he 
looks like. I's seen 'im, more'n once. 

Rhoda. 
Seen the Black Man, Uncle ? 



72 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Uncle Abe. 

Yais, ma'am. I's spied 'im, sittin' in de paw- 
paw bushes in de springtime, when de snakes 
a-runnin', an' de jays a-hollerin', and de crick 
a-talkin' sassy to hisse'f. 
He leans nearer, more mysteriously. 
En what you s'pose I heerd him whis'lin', for 
all de worl' lak dem scan'lous bluejays ? 
Chants in a high, trilling voice. 

" Chillun, chillun, they ain' no Gawd, they ain' 
no sin nor no jedgment, they's jes' springtime 
an' happy days, and folks carryin' on. Whar's 
yo' HI gal, Abe Johnson ? Whar's yo' HI sweet- 
heart gal ? " An' me on'y got religion wintah 
befo', peekin' roun' pie-eyed, skeered good. En 
fo' you could say " De Lawd's my Shepherd," 
kerchunk goes de Black Man in de mud-puddle, 
change' into a big green bullfrog! 

Mrs. Beeler. 
You just imagined all that. 

Uncle Abe. 

Indignant. 

Jes' 'magine ! Don' I know de Devil when I 

sees him, near 'nough to say " Howdy " ? 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 73 

Mrs. Beeler. 
There isn't any Devil. 

Uncle Abe. 

Astounded. 

Ain't no Devil ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

No. 

Uncle Abe goes, with puzzled headshakings, towards the 
kitchen door. He stops to smell the Easter lilies, then raises 
his head and looks at her again, with puzzled scrutiny. 

Uncle Abe. 

Mis' Beelah, did I understan' you to say — they 
ain' — no Devil? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Touching her breast. 

Only here, Uncle Abe. 

The old negro stares at her and Rhoda, and goes into the 
kitchen, feeling his own breast and shaking his head dubi- 
ously. Mrs. Beeler looks at the picture. 

Do you think your Uncle Mat would mind if 
we took that picture down ? 

Rhoda unpins the picture from the wall, rolls it up, and lays 
it on the bookshelf. Her aunt goes on, hesitatingly. 

Do you know, Rhoda, I have sometimes thought 
— You won't be hurt? 



74 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Rhoda. 
No. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

I — I know what that old negro says is all fool- 
ishness, but — there is something the matter 
with Mr. Michaelis. Have you noticed ? 

Rhoda. 

Avoiding her aunfs gaze. 

Yes. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Just when his great work is about to begin ! — 
What do you think it can be? 

Rhoda. 
How should I know, Aunt Mary? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

I thought maybe — Rhoda, I have seen him 
look at you so strangely! Like — like the 
Pilgrim in the picture, when he hears that 
heathen creature playing on the pipe. — 
You are such a wild creature, or you used 
to be. 

Rhoda comes to her aunt and stands a moment in silence. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 75 

Rhoda. 
Auntie. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
Yes? 

Rhoda. 

I think I ought to go away. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Astonished. 

Go away ? Why ? 

Rhoda. 
So as not to — hinder him. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Caressing her. 

There, you have taken what I said too seriously. 
It was only a sick woman's imagination. 

Rhoda. 

No, it was the truth. You see it, though you 
try not to. Even Uncle Abe sees it. Just 
when Mr. Michaelis most needs his strength, 
weakness has come upon him. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
You mean — ? 

She hesitates. 



76 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

You mean — because of you ? — Rhoda, look 
at me. 

Rhoda avoids her aunfs gaze ; Mrs. Beeler draws down 
the girl's face and gazes at it. 

Is there anything — that I don't know — be- 
tween you and him ? 

Rhoda. 

I — I must go away. — I ought to have gone 
before. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

My child, this — this troubles me very much. 
He is different from other men, and you — 
and you — 

Rhoda. 

With passion. 

Say it, say it ! What am I ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Don't be hurt, Rhoda, but — you have a wild 
nature. You are like your father. I remem- 
ber when he used to drive over to see sister 
Jane, with his keen face and eagle eyes, behind 
his span of wild colts, I used to tremble for my 
gentle sister. You are just like him, or you 
used to be. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 77 

Rhoda breaks away from her aunt, and takes her hat and 
cloak. Mrs. Beeler rises with perturbation, and crosses to 
detain her. 

What are you going to do ? 

Rhoda. 
I am going away — I must go away. 

Martha enters from the hall. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Speaks lower. 

Promise me you won't ! Promise me ! 

Martha. 

To look at that, now ! Seein' you on your feet, 
Mary, gives me a new start every time. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

To Rhoda. 
You promise ? 

Rhoda bows her head as in assent. 

Martha. 

Doctor's in the parlor. Shall I bring him in 
here ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

No. I think I will rest awhile. He can come 
to my room. 



78 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

She walks unsteadily. The others try to help her, but she 
motions them back. 

No. It's so good to feel that I can walk alone ! 

Martha. 
It does beat all ! 

Mrs. Beeler. 

I'll just lie down on the couch. I want to go 
out, before dark, and speak to the people. 

Mr. Beeler enters from the kitchen and crosses to help his 
wife. The others give place to him. 

Oh Mat, our good days are coming back ! I 
shall be strong and well for you again. 

Beeler. 

Yes, Mary. There will be nothing to separate 
us any more. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Points at his books. 

Not even — them ? 

He goes to the alcove, takes the books from the shelf, raises 

the lid of the window-seat, and throws them in. 
Mrs. Beeler points to the pictures of Darwin and Spencer. 

Nor them ? 

He unpins the pictures, lays them upon the heap of books, 
and returns to her. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 79 

You don't know how happy that makes me ! 

They go out by the hall door. Martha, as she lowers the lid 
of the window-seat, points derisively at the heap. 

Martha. 
That's a good riddance of bad rubbish ! 

She comes to the table and continues packing the basket. 

You'd better help me with this basket. Them 
folks will starve to death, if the neighborhood 
round don't give 'em a bite to eat. 

Rhoda fetches other articles from the cupboard. 

I'd like to know what they think we are made 
of, with butter at twenty-five cents a pound and 
flour worth its weight in diamonds ! 

Rhoda. 

All the neighbors are helping, and none of them 
with our cause for thankfulness. 

Martha. 

That's no sign you should go plasterin' on that 
butter like you was a bricklayer tryin' to bust 
the contractor! 

She takes the bread from Rhoda and scrapes the butter thin. 



80 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Rhoda. 

As the clock strikes five. 

It's time for Aunt Mary to have her tea. Shall 
I make it? 

Martha. 

You make it ! Not unless you want to lay her 
flat on her back again ! 

As she flounces out, Annie enters from the hall. She points 
with one hand at the retreating Martha, with the other 
toward her mother's room. 

Annie. 

Sings with sly emphasis. 

" Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, 
Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, 
Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along, 
Ring dem charmin' bells." 
She climbs upon a chair by the table, and fingers the contents 
of basket as she sings. 

Rhoda. 
What's got into you, little imp ? 

Annie. 

Brazenly. 

I've been peeping through mamma's keyhole. 

Rhoda. 
That's not nice. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 81 

Annie. 

I know it, but the minister's in there and Dr. 
Littlefield. 

Rhoda. 

Startled. 

Who? 

Annie. 

You know, mamma's doctor. — Oh, he's never 
come since you've been here. 

Rhoda. 
In a changed voice, as she takes the child by the shoulders. 
What does he look like ? 

Annie. 

Don't, you're hurting me ! — He's too red in the 
face, and looks kind of — insulting — and he 
wears the most beautiful neckties, and — 

Exhausted by her efforts at description. 
Oh, I don't know! 

She sings as she climbs down, and goes out by the kitchen 
door. 

" Free grace, undyin' love, 
Free grace, undyin' love, 
Free grace, undyin' love, 
Ring dem lovely bells." 



82 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Dr. Littlefield enters from Mrs. Beeler's room. He speaks 
back to Beeler on the threshold. 

Littlefield. 
Don't bother! I'll find it. 

Looking for something, he approaches Rhoda, who has her 
back turned. 

Beg pardon. Have you seen a pocket ther- 
mometer I left here ? 

She faces him. He starts back in surprise. 

Bless my soul and body ! Rhoda Williams ! 

He closes the hall door, returns to her, and stands somewhat 
disconcerted. 

Here, of all places ! 

Rhoda. 

Mrs. Beeler is my aunt. 

Littlefield. 

Well, well ! The world is small. — Been here 
long? 

Rhoda. 
Only a month. 

Littlefield. 
And before that? 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 83 

Rhoda. 

It's a long story. Besides, you wouldn't under- 
stand. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You might let me try. What in the world 
have you been doing all this time ? 

Rhoda. 
I have been searching for something. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

What was it ? 

Rhoda. 

My own lost self. My own — lost soul. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Amused at her solemnity. 

You're a queer bundle of goods. Always 
were. Head full of solemn notions about life, 
and at the same time, when it came to a lark, — 
Oh, I'm no grandmother, but when you got on 
your high horse — well ! 

He waves his hands expressively. 



84 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Rhoda. 
Bursts out. 

The great town, the people, the noise, and the 
lights — after seventeen years of life on a dead 
prairie, where I'd hardly heard a laugh or seen 
a happy face ! — All the same, the prairie had 
me still. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You don't mean you went back to the farm ? 

Rhoda. 

I mean that the years I'd spent out there in 
that endless stretch of earth and sky — . 
She breaks off, with a weary gesture. 

There's no use going into that. You wouldn't 
understand. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

No, I walk on simple shoe leather and eat 
mere victuals. — Just the same, it wasn't square 
of you to clear out that way — vanish into air 
without a word or a sign. 

Rhoda. 

Looking at him steadily. 

You know very well why I went. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 85 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Returning her gaze, unabashed, chants with meaning and 
relish. 

" Hey diddle, diddle, 
The cat and the fiddle, 
The cow jumped over the moon." 

Rhoda takes up the basket and goes toward the outer door. 
He intercepts her. 

Rhoda. 
Let me pass. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You're not taking part in this camp-meeting 
enthusiasm, are you ? 

Rhoda. 

Yes. 

As he stares at her, his astonishment changes to amusement ; 
he chuckles to himself, then bursts out laughing, as in hu- 
morous reminiscence. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Bless my soul ! And to think that only a 
couple of little years ago — Oh, bless my soul ! 

The stair door opens. Michaelis appears. His face is 
flushed, his hair disordered, and his whole person ex- 
presses a feverish and precarious exaltation. 



86 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

MlCHAELIS. 

Looks at Littlefield with vague query, then at Rhoda. 

Excuse me, I am very thirsty. I came down 

for a glass of water. 

Rhoda goes to the kitchen door, where she turns. The doc- 
tor puts on a pair of nose-glasses and scans Michaelis with 
interest. He holds out his hand, which Michaelis takes. 

Littlefield. 

We ought to know each other. We're col- 
leagues, in a way. 

Michaelis. 
Colleagues ? 

Littlefield. 

In a way, yes. I'm a practising physician. 

Exit Rhoda. 

You seem to have the call on us professionals, 

to judge by the number of your clients out 

yonder. 

He points out of the window. 

To say nothing of Exhibit One ! 

He points to the hall door. 

Michaelis. 

Vaguely. 

I — I don't know that I — 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 87 

Rhoda enters from the kitchen, with water, which he takes. 

Thank you. 

He drinks thirstily. Mr. Beeler appears in the hall door ; 
he looks at the group, taken aback. 

Beeler. 
Oh — ! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

I stopped to chat with your niece. She and I 
happen to be old acquaintances. 

Beeler. 

You don't say? — Would you mind coming in 
here for a minute ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 
Following him out. 

What's up ? 

Beeler. 

My wife's got it in her head that she's called 
upon to — 

Door closes. Michaelis, who has followed Littlefield with 
his eyes, sets down the glass, and turns slowly to Rhoda. 

Michaelis. 
Who is that ? 

Rhoda. 
My aunt's doctor. 



88 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

MlCHAELIS. 

You know him well ? 

Rhoda. 
Yes. — No. 

MlCHAELIS. 

What does that mean ? 

Rhoda. 

I haven't seen him for nearly two years. — I 
can't remember much about the person I was, 
two years ago. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes ! Yes ! I understand. 

He turns away, lifting his hands, speaking half to himself. 

That these lives of ours should be poured like 
a jelly, from one mould into another, until God 
Himself cannot remember what they were two 
years ago, or two hours ago ! 

Rhoda, 
Why do you say that ? 

He does not answer, but walks nervously about. Rhoda, 
watching him, speaks, after a silence. 

Last month — out West — were there many 
people there ? 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 89 

MlCHAELIS. 

No. — Two or three. 

Rhoda. 
The papers said — 

MlCHAELIS. 

When the crowd began to gather, I — went 
away. 

Rhoda. 
Why? 

MlCHAELIS. 

My time had not come. 

He has stopped before the map and stands gazing at it. 

Rhoda. 
Has it come now ? 
She comes closer. 
— Has your time come now ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes. 

Rhoda. 

How do you know? 

MlCHAELIS. 

Points at the map. 

It is written there ! 



9 o THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Rhoda. 
How do you mean, written there ? 

Michaelis. 
Can't you see it ? 

Rhoda. 
I see the map, nothing more. 

Michaelis. 

Points again, gazing fixedly. 

It seems to me to be written in fire. 

Rhoda. 
What seems written ? 

Michaelis. 
What I have been doing, all these five years. 

Rhoda. 
Since your work began? 

Michaelis. 

It has never begun. Many times I have thought, 
" Now," and some man or woman has risen up 
healed, and looked at me with eyes of prophecy. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 91 

But a Voice would cry, " On, on ! " and I would 
go forward, driven by a force and a will not my 
own. — I didn't know what it all meant, but I 
know now. 

He points at the map, his manner transformed with excite- 
ment and exaltation. 

It is written there. It is written in letters of 
fire. My eyes are opened, and I see ! 

Rhoda. 

Following his gaze, then looking at him again, awed and be- 
wildered. 

What is it that you see ? 

Michaelis. 
The cross ! 

Rhoda. 
I — I don't understand. 

Michaelis. 

All those places where the hand was lifted for a 
moment, and the power flowed into me — 

He places his finger at various points on the map ; these 
points lie in two transverse lines, between the Mississippi 
and the Pacific ; one line runs roughly north and south, 
the other east and west. 



92 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Look! There was such a place, and there 
another, and there, and there. And there was 
one, and there, and there. — Do you see ? 

Rhoda. 
I see. — It makes a kind of cross. 

Michaelis. 

You see it too ! And do you see what it means 

— this sign that my feet have marked across 
the length and breadth of a continent ? 

He begins again to pace the room. 

— And that crowd of stricken souls out yonder, 
raised up as by miracle, their broken bodies 
crying to be healed, — do you see what they 
mean ? 

Rhoda. 

In a steady voice. 

They mean what my aunt said this morning. 

They mean that your great hour has come. 

Michaelis. 
My hour! my hour! 
He comes nearer, and speaks in a quieter tone. 
I knew a young Indian once, a Hopi boy, who 
made songs and sang them to his people. One 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 93 

evening we sat on the roof of the chief's house 
and asked him to sing. He shook his head, 
and went away in the starlight. The next 
morning, I found him among the rocks under 
the mesa, with an empty bottle by his side. — 
He never sang again ! Drunkenness had taken 
him. He never sang again, or made another 
verse. 

Rhoda. 

What has that to do with you? It's not — ? 
You don't mean that you — ? 

Michaelis. 

No. There is a stronger drink for such as I 
am! 

Rhoda. 

Forcing herself to go on. 

What — " stronger drink " ? 

Michaelis. 

Wildly. 

The wine of this world ! The wine-bowl that 

crowns the feasting table of the children of this 

world. 

Rhoda. 

What do you mean by — the wine of this world ? 



94 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

MlCHAELIS. 

You know that ! Every woman knows. 
He points out of the window, at the sky flushed with sunset 
color. 

Out there, at this moment, in city and country, 
souls, thousands upon thousands of souls, are 
dashing in pieces the cup that holds the wine 
of heaven, the wine of God's shed blood, and 
lifting the cups of passion and of love, that 
crown the feasting table of the children of this 
earth! Look! The very sky is blood-red with 
the lifted cups. And we two are in the midst 
of them. Listen what I sing there, on the hills 
of light in the sunset : " Oh, how beautiful upon 
the mountains are the feet of my beloved ! " 

A song rises outside, loud and near at hand — Michaelis 
listens, his expression gradually changing from passionate 
excitement to brooding distress. 

Vaguely, as the music grows fainter and dies away. 

I — we were saying — . 

He grasps her arm in nervous apprehension. 

For God's sake, tell me. — Are there many 

people — waiting — out there ? 

Rhoda. 
Hundreds, if not thousands. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 95 

MlCHAELIS. 
Walks about. 

Thousands. — Thousands of thousands ! — 

He stops beside her. 

You won't leave me alone ? 

Rhoda. 
Hesitates, then speaks with decision. 

No. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Continuing his walk. 

Thousands of thousands ! 

The hall door opens, Dr. Littlefield and a Clergyman, the 
Rev. John Culpepper, enter. The latter stares inquir- 
ingly from Michaelis to the Doctor, who nods affirmatively, 
and adjusts his glasses. 

Culpepper. 

Mutters to Littlefield. 

Nonsense ! Sacrilegious nonsense ! 

Littlefield. 

Same tone. 

I've done my best. 

Behind them comes Mrs. Beeler, supported by her Husband. 
At the same moment Martha enters from the kitchen, with 
tea; Uncle Abe and Annie follow. 



96 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Beeler. 
On the threshold. 

Mary, take another minute to consider. 

Mrs. Beeler, as if without hearing this protest, gazes at 
Michaelis, and advances into the room with a gesture of 
the arms which causes her supporter to loosen his hold, 
though he follows slightly behind, to render aid if necessary. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

To Michaelis. 

Tell me that I may go out, and stand before 
them for a testimony ! 

Littlefield. 
As a physician, I must formally protest. 

Culpepper. 
And I as a minister of the Gospel. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

To Michaelis, with a nervous, despairing gesture. 

Speak to them ! Explain to them ! I am too 

weak. 

There is a sound of excited voices outside, near at hand, 

then a sudden trample of footsteps at the entrance door. 

As Beeler goes hurriedly to the door it bursts open and a 

young woman with a baby in her arms crowds past him, 

and stands looking wildly about the room. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 97 

Beeler. 

As he forces the others back. 

You can't come in here, my friends ! Stand 

back! 

The woman gazes from one to another of the men. The old- 
negro points at Michaelis. She advances to him, holding 
out the child. 

Mother. 

Don't let my baby die ! For Christ's sake, 
don't let him die ! 

He examines the child's face, touches the mother's head 
tenderly, and signs to Rhoda to take them into the inner 
room. 

Michaelis. 
Take her with you, I will come. 

Rhoda. 

With gentle urgency, to the woman. 

Come with me. 

She leads the woman out through the hall door. 

Michaelis. 

To Mrs. Beeler, as he points outside. 

Tell them to wait until to-morrow at sunrise. 



98 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Mr. and Mrs. Beeler move toward the entrance door ; some 
of the others start after, some linger, curious to know what 
will happen to the child. Michaelis turns upon them 
with a commanding gesture. 

Go, all of you ! 

The room is cleared except for Littlefield, who goes last, 
stops in the doorway, closes the door, and app?-oaches 
Michaelis. He speaks in a friendly and reasonable tone. 

Littlefield. 
You're on the wrong track, my friend. 

Michaelis. 
I asked you to go. 

Littlefield. 

I heard you. I want to say a word or two first. 
For your own sake and for that woman's sake, 
you'd better listen. You can't do anything for 
her baby. 

Michaelis. 

Is that for you to say ? 

Littlefield. 

Yes, sir ! It is most decidedly for me to say. 

Michaelis. 
By what authority ? 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 99 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

By the authority of medical knowledge. — You 
are a very remarkable man, with a very remark- 
able gift. In your own field, I take off my hat 
to you. If you knew yourself as science knows 
you, you might make the greatest doctor living. 
Your handling of Mrs. Beeler's case was mas- 
terly. But — come right down to it — you didn't 
work the cure. 

Michaelis. 
I know that. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Who do you think did ? 

Michaelis. 

Raising his hands. 

He whom I serve, and whom you blaspheme! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

No, sir! He whom / serve, and whom you 
blaspheme — Nature. Or rather, Mrs. Beeler 
did it herself. 

Michaelis. 
Herself? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

You gave her a jog, so to speak, here, or here, 

Touches his brain and heart. 



ioo THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

and she did the rest. But you can't do the same 
to everybody. Above all, you can't do it to a baby 
in arms. There's nothing either here or here, 
Touches brain and heart. 

to get hold of. I'm a modest man, and as I say, 

in your own field you're a wonder. But in a 

case like this one — 

He points to the hall door. 

I'm worth a million of you. 

Michaelis. 

Moves as if to give place to him, with a challenging gesture 
toward the door. 

Try! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Shrugs. 

Not much ! The woman wouldn't listen to me. 

And if she did, and I failed — oh, I'm no miracle 

worker ! — they'd make short work of me, out 

there. 

He points out and adds significantly. 

They're in no mood for failures, out there. 

Michaelis' 's gaze, as if in spite of himself, goes to the window. 
He rests his hand on the table, to stop its trembling. Little- 
field goes on, watching him with interest. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 101 

Nervously speaking, you are a high power 
machine. The dynamo that runs you is what 
is called " faith," " religious inspiration," or what- 
not. It's a dynamo which nowadays easily gets 
out of order. Well, my friend, as a doctor, 
I warn you that your little dynamo is out of 
order. — In other words, you've lost your grip. 
You're in a funk. 
Rhoda opens the hall door and looks anxiously at the two. 

Michaelis approaches her with averted eyes. As he is 

about to pass out, she speaks timidly. 

Rhoda. 
Do you want me ? 

Michaelis. 

In a toneless voice. 

No. 

She watches him until the inner door shuts. She and Little- 
field confront each other in silence for a moment across the 
width of the room. 

Rhoda. 

Forcing herself to speak calmly. 

Please go. 

Little field. 

Drops his professional tone for one of cynical badinage. 
You make up well as one of the Wise Virgins, 
whose lamps are trimmed and burning for the 



102 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

bridegroom to pass by. I hope that personage 
won't disappoint you, nor the several hundred 
others, out yonder, whose lamps are trimmed 
and burning. 

The outer door opens. Mrs. Beeler enters, supported by her 
husband, and accompanied by Martha and the Rev. Cul- 
pepper, with Uncle Abe following in the rear. Rhoda 
hastens to her aunts side. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Ah, Rhoda, I wish you had been out there with 
me. Such beautiful human faces ! Such poor, 
suffering, believing human faces, lit up by such 
a wonderful new hope! 

She turns to the minister. 

Wasn't it a wonderful thing to see ? 

Culpepper. 

It is wonderful to see human nature so credu- 
lous. And to me, very painful. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

To-morrow you will see how right these poor 

souls are to lift their trust so high. — 

To Rhoda. 

Where is he now ? 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 103 

Rho da points in the direction of her own room. 

How happy that young mother's heart will be 

to-night ! 

Uncle Abe. 
Solemnly. 

Amen! 

Culpepper. 

In a dry tone. 

We will hope so. 

They move to the hall door, where Beeler resigns his wife to 
Rhoda. The two pass out. 

Culpepper, Littlefield, and Beeler remain. During the fol- 
lowing conversation, Martha lights the lamp, after direct- 
ing Uncle Abe, by a gesture, to take the provision basket 
into the kitchen. He does so. 

Littlefield. 

Pointing through the window. 

They're just laying siege to you, ain't they? I 
guess they won't let your man give them the 
slip, this time — even though you do let him 
run loose. 

Beeler. 

With severity. 

You have seen my wife walk alone to-day, the 
first time in five years. 



104 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT n 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

I beg your pardon. I understand how you feel 

about it. 

Martha goes out into the kitchen. 

And even if it proves to be only temporary — ■ 

Beeler. 
Temporary ! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Permanent, let us hope. Anyway, it's a very 
remarkable case. Astonishing. I've only 
known one just like it — personally, I mean. 

Beeler. 

Astounded. 
Just like it ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Well, pretty much. Happened in Chicago 
when I was an interne at St. Luke's. 

Beeler. 

Then it's not — there's nothing — peculiar 
about it? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Yes, sir-ree ! Mighty peculiar ! 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 105 

Beeler. 
I mean nothing, as you might say, outside 
nature ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

O, bless you, you can't get outside nature now- 
adays ! 
Moves his hands in a wide circle. 

Tight as a drum, no air-holes. — Devilish queer, 
though — pardon me, Mr. Culpepper — really 
amazing, the power of the mind over the body. 

Culpepper. 

Would you be good enough to let us hear some 
of your professional experiences? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Lights a cigarette, as he leans on the edge of the table. 

Don't have to go to professional medicine for 
cases. They're lying around loose. Why, 
when I was at Ann Arbor — in a fraternity 
initiation — we bared a chap's shoulders, showed 
him a white-hot poker, blindfolded him, told 
him to stand steady, and — touched him with a 
piece of ice. A piece of ice, I tell you ! What 
happened? Damned if it — pardon me, Mr. 



106 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Culpepper — blessed if it didn't burn him — 
carries the scars to this day. Then there was 
that case, in Denver. Ever hear about that ? 
A young girl, nervous patient. Nails driven 
through the palms of her hands, — tenpenny 
nails, — under the hypnotic suggestion that she 
wasn't being hurt. Didn't leave a cicatrice as 
big as a bee sting ! Fact ! 

Beeler. 
You think my wife's case is like these ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Precisely ; with religious excitement to help out. 
He points outside. 

They're getting ready for Kingdom-come over 
it, out yonder, dear Dr. Culpepper. 

Beeler. 

They're worked up enough, if that's all that's 
needed. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Worked up! Elijah in a chariot of fire, distribu- 
ting cure-alls as he mounts to glory. They've 
got their ascension robes on, especially the 
niggers. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 107 

Culpepper. 

With severity. 

I take it you are the late Dr. Martin's successor. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

I have the honor. 

Culpepper. 

Old Dr. Martin would never have taken a flip- 
pant tone in such a crisis. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Flippant? By no means! A little light-headed. 

My profession is attacked. At its very roots, 

sir. — 

With relish. 

As far as that goes, I'm afraid yours is, too. 

Culpepper. 

To Beeler, ignoring the gibe. 

Am I to understand that you countenance these 

proceedings ? 

Beeler. 

Pointing to the invalid chair. 

If your wife had spent five years helpless in 
that chair, I guess you'd countenance any pro- 
ceedings that set her on her feet. 



io8 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Culpepper. 

Towers threateningly. 

If your wife is the woman she was, she would 
rather sit helpless forever beside the Rock of 
Ages, than dance and flaunt herself in the 
house of idols ! 

Beeler. 

With depreciating humor. 

O, I guess she ain't doin' much flauntin' of 
herself in any house of idols. — You've heard 
Doctor here say it's all natural enough. Maybe 
this kind of cure is the coming thing. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

The Brother would drive us doctors into the 
poorhouse, if he could keep up the pace. And 
you preachers, too, as far as that goes. If he 
could keep up the pace ! Well — 

Sucks at his cigarette deliberately. 
lucky for us, he cant keep it up. 

Beeler. 
Why can't he keep it up ? 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 109 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Can't stand the strain. — Oh, I haven't seen him 
operate, but I'm willing to bet his miracles take 
it out of him ! 

Culpepper. 
Takes his hat and goes toward the outer door. 
Miracles, indeed ! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Following. 

Oh, wait for me, Doctor; we're both in the same 
boat ! 

Beeler. 

Hope you gentlemen will come back again to- 
night, and soon too. Don't know what'll hap- 
pen if things go wrong in there. 
Points towards the hall. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

All right — you can count on me — 
Beeler. 

To Culpepper. 
And you ? 

Culpepper. 

I seldom shirk my duty. 

Beeler closes the door after them. 



no THE FAITH HEALER [ACT n 

Martha enters from the kitchen, with a pan of dough, which 
she sets before the fire to raise. 

Beeler. 
You keepin' an eye out, Marthy ? 

Martha. 

Guess your barn'd 'a' been afire, if I hadn't been 
keepin' an eye out. 

Beeler. 
I warned 'em about fire ! 

Martha. 

Haymow ketched. If I hadn't been there to 
put it out, we'd 'a' been without a roof by now. 

Beeler. 
Guess I better go keep an eye out myself. 

Martha. 
Guess you had ! 

Beeler goes out by the kitchen. Martha takes up mechani- 
cally her eternal task of setting things to rights — gathering 
up Annie 's toys and arranging the furniture in more pre- 
cise order. Meanwhile, Rhoda enters from the hall with 
the mother of the sick child, a frail young woman of ner- 
vous type. She clings to Rhoda feverishly. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER hi 

Mother. 
Don't leave me ! 

Rhoda. 

You mustn't worry. Your baby will get well. 

Rhoda sinks in a low easy chair before the fire, and the 
woman kneels beside her, her face hidden on the chair arm. 

You must keep up your courage and your trust. 
That will help more than anything. 

Mother. 
I'm afraid ! 

Rhoda. 

Think of those others out there, who are wait- 
ing too, without the glimpse of comfort you've 
had. 

Mother. 

Bursts out. 

I ain't had no comfort ! When I heard him 
pray for my child, I — I don't know — I kept 
sayin' to myself — " O God, it's me that's 
stretchin' out my hands to you, not him. 
Don't punish me for his cold words I " 
Martha, who has been listening, shakes her head significantly. 

Rhoda. 
Cold words ! 



ii2 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Mother. 

Yes, I know it's wrong. I'll try to feel differ- 
ent. It's because I ain't had nothin' to do with 
religion for so long. — If my baby gets well, I'll 
make up for it. I'll make up for everything. 
The woman rises. Rhoda kisses her. 

Rhoda. 

I shall be here if you want me. And I shall — 
pray for you. 

The mother goes out. Distant singing is heard. Martha 
comes to the mantelpiece with matches, which she ar- 
ranges in the match tray. She looks at Rhoda, who sits 
with closed eyes. 

Martha. 
Guess you're about dead beat. 

Rhoda. 
I think I never was so tired in my life. 

Martha. 

Worry does it, more'n work. Better try and 
doze off, Rhody. 

The hall door opens, and Annie enters. She comes to Martha, 
and clings nervously to her skirts. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 113 

Annie. 

Aunt Martha! I want to stay with you. You're 
the only person in this house that ain't different. 
What's the matter with Mamma ? 

Martha. 
She's cured, I reckon. 

Annie. 
How did she get cured ? 

Martha. 
You can search me ! 

Annie. 
Did that man cure her ? 

Martha. 

That's what she says, and I don't hear him 
denyin' it. 

Annie. 
Whining. 

I don't want her to be cured ! 

Martha. 

Annie Beeler ! Don't want your mother to be 
cured ? 



ii 4 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Annie. 

No, I don't. I want her to be like she always 
has been. She don't seem like my Mamma at 
all this way. What's the matter with all those 
people out there ? Why don't we have any 
supper ? 

She bursts out crying and dings feverishly to Martha. 
Oh, what's going to happen to us ? 

Martha. 

There, Annie, don't cry. 

She looks at Rhoda, throws a cover over her knees, and draws 
Annie away, speaking low. 

Come out in the kitchen, and I'll give you your 

supper. 

Exeunt. The singing grows louder and nearer. Michaelis 
enters from the hall. His hair is dishevelled, his collar open, 
his manner feverish and distraught. He looks closely at 
Rhoda, sees she is sleeping, then paces the floor nervously, 
gazing out of the window in the direction of the singing. 
At length he comes to Rhoda again, and bends over her, 
studying her face. She starts up, confused and terror- 
stricken, from her doze. 

Rhoda. 

What — what is the matter? Oh, you fright- 
ened me so! 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 115 

Michaelis turns away without answering. 

What has happened ? Why are you here ? 

Michaelis. 
You had dropped asleep. You are weary. 

Rhoda. 

Collecting her thoughts with difficulty. 

I was dreaming — such a strange dream. 

Michaelis. 
What did you dream? 

Rhoda. 

I thought it was morning ; the sun had risen, 
and — and you were out there, in the midst of 
the crowd. 

Michaelis. 

Excitedly. 

Go on ! What happened ? 

Rhoda. 
I — I can't remember the rest. 

Michaelis. 
Grasps her arm, speaks low. 
You must remember ! Did I — succeed ? 



n6 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Rhoda. 

Helplessly. 

I — it's all a blur in my mind. 

Michaelis. 
Darkly. 

You don't want me to know that, in your dream, 
I failed. 

Rhoda. 

No, no. That is not so. 
Pause. She speaks with hesitation. 

Perhaps this is not the time. Perhaps you are 
not ready. 

Michaelis. 

What does that matter? He is ready. 

He points at the map. 

Rhoda. 

Gazing at the map, with mystic conviction. 

You will succeed ! You must succeed ! 

He paces the room. She stops him, pointing toward the 
hall door. 

How is the child? 

He hesitates. She repeats the words anxiously. 
How is the child? 

He shakes his head gloomily for answer. 

It will get well, I am sure. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 117 

MlCHAELIS. 

If it does not, I am judged. 

Rhoda. 
Oh, don't say that or think it ! 

MlCHAELIS. 

I am weighed in the balance and found wanting ! 

Rhoda. 

You cannot hang the whole issue and meaning 
of your life upon so slight a thread. 

MlCHAELIS. 

The whole issue and meaning of the world hang 
on threads as slight. If this one is slight. To 
the mother it is not slight, nor to the God who 
put into her eyes, as she looked at me, all the 
doubt and question of the suffering earth. 

Rhoda. 
You must remember that it is only a little child. 
Its mind is not open. You cannot influence it 



can you ? 



MlCHAELIS. 



Once that little life in my hand would have been 
as clay in the hands of the potter. If I cannot 



n8 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

help now, it is because my ministry has been 
taken from me and given to another, who will 
be strong where I am weak, and faithful where 
I am unfaithful. 
Another song rises outside, distant. 

Rhoda. 

Comes closer to him. 

Tell me this. Speak plainly to me. Is it be- 
cause of me that your weakness and unfaith 
have come upon you ? Is it because of me ? 

Michaelis. 

Looking at her steadily. 

Yes.— 

He comes nearer. 

Before creation, beyond time, God not yet risen 
from His sleep, you stand and call to me, and I 
listen in a dream that I dreamed before Eden. 

Rhoda. 

Shrinking from him. 

You must not say such things to me. — You 
must not think of me so. — You must not ! 

He follows her, his passion mounting. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 119 

MlCHAELIS. 

All my life long I have known you, and fled 
from you. I have heard you singing on the 
hills of sleep and have fled from you into the 
waking day. I have seen you in the spring 
forest, dancing and throwing your webs of sun- 
light to snare me ; on moonlit mountains, laugh- 
ing and calling ; in the streets of crowded cities, 
beckoning and disappearing in the crowd — and 
everywhere I have fled from you, holding above 
my head the sign of God's power in me, my 
gift and my mission. — What use? What use? 
It has crumbled, and I do not care ! 

Rhoda. 

Oh, don't speak such words, I beseech you. 
Let me go. This must not, shall not be ! 
She makes another attempt to escape. He presses upon her 
until she stands at bay. 

MlCHAELIS. 

You are all that I have feared and shunned and 

missed on earth, and now I have you, the rest 

is as nothing. 

He takes her, feebly resisting, into his arms. 

I know a place out there, high in the great 



120 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

mountains. Heaven-piercing walls of stone, a 
valley of trees and sweet water in the midst — 
grass and flowers, such flowers as you have 
never dreamed could grow. — There we will 
take our happiness. A year — a month — a 
day — what matter? We will make a lifetime 
of each hour ! 

Rhoda. 

Yielding to his embrace, whispers. 

Don't talk. Don't think. Only — love me. 
A little while. A little while. 

The deep hush of their embrace is broken by a cry from 
within. The young mother opens the hall door, in a dis- 
traction of terror and grief . 

Mother. 
Come here ! Come quick ! 

Michaelis and Rhoda draw apart. He stares at the woman, 
as if not remembering who she is. 

I can't rouse him ! My baby's gone. Oh, my 
God, he's dead ! 

She disappears. Rhoda follows, drawing Michaelis, dazed 
and half resisting, with her. The room remains vacant 
for a short time, the stage held by distant singing. Beeler 
enters from the kitchen. There is a knock at the outer door, 
which he opens. Littlefield, Culpepper, and Uncle Abe etiter. 



ACT4II] THE FAITH HEALER 121 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Your man hasn't vamoosed, has he ? Uncle 
Abe here says he saw the Indian boy slipping 
by in the fog. 

Beeler. 

Turns to the negro inquiringly. 

Alone ? 

Uncle Abe. 

Mumbles half to himself. 

'Lone. 'Spec' he was alone. Didn't even have 
his own flesh and bones wif 'im ! 

Beeler. 
What's that ? 

Uncle Abe. 

Holds up his right hand, which he eyes with superstitious 
interest. 

Put dis hyar han' right trough him ! — Shore's 
you're bo'n. Right plum' f rough 'im whar he lives. 

Culpepper. 
Mediaeval ! Alsolutely mediaeval ! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Not a bit of it. It's up to date, and a little 
more, too. 



122 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

Culpepper. 

I'm astonished that you take this situation flip- 
pantly. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Not for a minute. My bread and butter are at 
stake. 

Wickedly. 

Yours too, you know. 

Mrs. Beeler enters, alone, from the hall. She is in a state of 
vague alarm. Her husband hastens to help her. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

What is it ? What is the matter ? I thought 
I heard — 

She breaks off, as a murmur of voices rises outside. There 
is a sound of stumbling and crowding on the outer steps, 
and violent knocking. The outer door is forced open, and 
a crowd of excited people is about to pour into the room. 
Beeler, the Doctor, and the Preacher are able to fo?xe the 
crowd back only after several have made an entrance. 

Beeler. 

Keep back ! You can't come in here. 

As he pushes them roughly back, excited voices speak to- 
gether. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 123 

Voices in the Crowd. 
Where is he ? — They say he's gone away. We 
seen his boy makin' for the woods. — Oh, it's 
not true ! Make him come out. 

Beeler. 

Curse you, keep back, I say ! 

Rhoda has entered from the ha//, and Martha from the 
kitchen. The two women support Mrs. Beeler, who re- 
mains standing, the fear deepening in her face. 

A Voice. 

On the outskirts of the crowd. 

Where's he gone to ? 

Beeler. 
He's here. In the next room. Keep back! 
Here he comes now. 

Michaelis appears in the hall door. There is a low murmur 
of excitement, expectation, and awe among the people 
crowded in the entrance. Beeler crosses to help his wife, 
and the other men step to one side, leaving Michaelis to 
confront the crowd alone. Confused, half-whispered excla- 
mations : 

Voices in the Crowd. 
Hallelujah ! Emmanuel ! 

A Negro. 
Praise de Lamb. 



i2 4 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT II 

A Woman. 

Above the murmuring voices. 

" He hath arisen, and His enemies are scattered." 

Michaelis. 
Who said that ? 

A woma?i, obscurely seen in the crowd, lifts her hands and 
cries again, this time in a voice ecstatic and piercing. 

A Woman. 

" The Lord hath arisen, and His enemies are 
scattered ! " 

Michaelis. 

His enemies are scattered ! Year after year I have 
heard His voice calling me — and year after year 
I have said, "Show me the way." And He 
showed me the way. He brought me to this 
house, and He raised up the believing multitude 
around me. But in that hour I failed Him, I 
failed Him. He has smitten me, as His enemies 
are smitten. — As a whirlwind He has scattered 
me and taken my strength from me forever. 

He advances i?ito the room, with a gesture backward through 
the open door. 

In yonder room a child lies dead on its mother's 
knees, and the mother's eyes follow me with 
curses. 



ACT II] THE FAITH HEALER 125 

At the news of the child' 's death, Mrs. Beeler has sunk with a 
low moan into a chair, where she lies white and motionless. 
Michaelis turns to her. 

And here lies one who rose at my call, and was 
as one risen; but now — 

He breaks off, raises his hand to her, and speaks in a voice 
of pleading. 

Arise, my sister ! 

She makes a feeble ges hire of the left hand. 

Rise up once more, I beseech you ! 

She attempts to rise, but falls back helpless. 

Beeler. 

Bending over her. 

Can't you get up, Mother ? 

She shakes her head. 

Michaelis. 

Turning to the people. 

Despair not, for another will come, and another 
and yet another, to show you the way. But as 
for me — 

He sinks down by the table, and gazes before him, muttering in 
a tragic whisper. 

Broken ! Broken ! Broken ! 

CURTAIN 



ACT III 



ACT III 

The next morning, just before sunrise. Both door and 
windows are open, and a light breeze sways the curtains. 
Outside is a tree- shaded and vine- clad porch, with 
balustrade, beyond which is a tangle of flowering bushes 
and fruit trees in bloom. The effect is of a rich warm 
dawn — a sudden onset of summer weather after a bleak 
spring. 

Beeler, with Uncle Abe looking on, is busy putting up the 
pictures which he has taken down in the preceding act. 
Martha enters from the hall. 



To Martha. 
Is Mary up ? 



Beeler. 



Martha. 



Yes. Wants to go out on the porch and watch 
the sun rise, same as she's done every Easter 
morning since Seth died. 

Beeler. 

Won't hurt her, I reckon, bad off as she is. — A 
reg'lar old-fashioned, sunshiny, blossomy spring 
mornin' — summer here with a jump and fine 
growin' weather. 

K 129 



i 3 o THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Pause. 

All the same, sun might as well stay in China 
this Easter! 

Martha. 

Is that why you're tackin' up them fool pic- 
tures again? 

Beeler. 
Yes, ma'am. That's just why. Religion ! 

Martha. 

You wa'n't so sure yesterday, when you saw 
your wife stand up on her two dead feet and walk. 

Beeler. 
Well, she ain't walkin' now. 

Martha. 
No, she ain't, poor thing. 

Beeler. 

Natural cure, natural relapse. Doctor says 
the new medical books explain it. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 131 

Martha. 
Give it a name, maybe ! 

Beeler. 

Bursts out petulantly. 

You women don't want things explained, any 
more'n Abe here! You prefer hocus-pocus. 
And nothin' will teach you. Take Rhody ! 
Sees Michaelis flunk his job miserable. Sees 
Mary go down like a woman shot, hands and 
legs paralyzed again, — Doctor says, for good, 
this time. And what does the girl do about 
it ? Spends the night out yonder laborin' with 
them benighted sick folks, tellin' 'em the healer 
will make good. Lots of makin' good he'll do ! 
He points at the ceiling. 

A fine picture of a healer he makes. 

Martha. 

Looking up. 

Still as a stone! I'd rather have him ragin' 
round same as yesterday, like a lion with the 
epizootic. 

Beeler. 

He's a dead one. Rhody might as well give 
up tryin' to make folks think different. 



i 3 2 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Martha. 
Maybe Rhody holds she's to blame. 

Beeler. 
To blame ? To blame for what ? 

Martha. 
For him a-peterin' out. 

Beeler. 

What's she got to do with it ? 

Martha. 

Maybe she ain't got nothin' to do with it, and 
maybe she's got a whole lot. 

Beeler. 

Marthy, I don't want it to get out, but you're a 
plum' luny sentimental old maid fool ! 

Uncle Abe has been hovering, with superstitious interest, near 
the picture of Pan and the Pilgrim. With side glances at 
it, he speaks, taking advantage of the lull in co7iversation 
which follows Beeler 'j outburst. 

Uncle Abe. 

Mistah Beelah, 'scuse me troublin' you, but — 
'scuse me troublin' you. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 133 

Beeler. 

What is it, Abe ? 

Uncle Abe. 

It's purty brash o' me to be askin', but — Mista 
Beelah, fur de Lawd's sake give me that thar 
devil — pictuh ! 

Beeler. 

What do you want with it ? 

Uncle Abe. 

Want to hang it up in my ole cabin. 

His tone rises to one of eager pleading. 

Mars Beelah, you give it to me ! For Gawd's 
sake, say Ole Uncle Abe kin have it, to hang 
up in his ole cabin. 

Beeler. 

Well, if you feel as strong as that about it, Abe, 
take it along. 

Uncle Abe. 

As he unpins it with feverish eagerness. 

Thank ye, Mistah Beelah, thank ye. I'll wo'k 



i 3 4 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

fur ye and I'll slave fur ye, long as the worl' 
Stan's. Maybe it ain't goin' to stan' much longer 
aftah all. Maybe de chariot's comin' down in 
de fiery clouds fo' great while. An' what'll yo' 
ole Uncle Abe be doin' ? He'll be on his knees 
'fore a big roarin' fire, singing hallelujah, an' 
a-jammin' red-hot needles right plum' frough dis 
heah black devil's breas' bone! I'se got him 
now! I'll fix'm. 

Shakes his fist at the print, as he goes toward the kitchen. 

Put yo' black spell on the Lawd's chosen, 
would ye ? I'se got ye. I'll make ye sing, 
" Jesus, my ransom," right out'n yo' ugly black 
mouf ! 

Exit Beeler. 

There's a purty exhibition for this present year 
o' grace ! Thinks our friend Pan there has 
bewitched the healer. 

Martha. 

Maybe he has ! 

Beeler. 
Thought you said Rhody done it. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 135 

Martha. 

Same thing, I reckon, by all that you tell about 
that Panjandrum and his goin's on ! 

Beeler. 
Nonsense ! 

Martha. 

If you're so wise, why do you think Michaelis 
petered out ? 

Beeler. 

Couldn't stand the strain. Bit off more'n he 
could chaw, in the healin' line. — Never looked 
at Rhody. 

Martha. 

Looked at her till he couldn't see nothin' else, 
in heaven or earth or the other place. 

Beeler. 

You're dead wrong. I tell you he never looked 
cross-eyed at Rhody, nor Rhody at him. Doc- 
tor's more in her line. — By the way, did you 
give the Doctor a snack to stay his stomach ? 

Martha. 

Done nothin' but feed him all night long. Seems 
to be mighty exhaustin' work to tend a sick baby. 



136 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Beeler. 

Does he think it'll live? 

Martha. 

Not likely. But he thinks he will, if fed reg'lar. 
— What do you call that trance the baby's in ? 

Beeler. 

Doctor calls it corny. Spelled it out for me: 
c-o-m-a, corny. 

Beeler goes out on the porch and disappears. Martha con- 
tinues her task of tidying up the room. Michaelis enters 
from the stair, carrying his hat and a foot-traveller's knap- 
sack. Martha regards him with curiosity, tempered now 
by feminine sympathy with the defeated. 

Martha. 
Good morning, sir. 

Michaelis. 

Tonelessly. 
Good morning. 

Martha. 

Pointing at his hat and knapsack. 
Hope you ain't off. Don't mind sayin' the way 
you acted was human decent, sendin' for Doctor 
when you found the baby wa'n't dead, an' you 
wa'n't no healer any more. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 137 

MlCHAELIS. 

Is it any better? 

Martha makes a disconsolate gesture, implying that there is 
little or no hope. Michaelis turns away with bent head. 
Annie enters from the kitchen. Michaelis holds out his 
hand to her, and she takes it with shy hesitation. 

Martha. 

Guess you'd like to know where Rhody is, 
wouldn't you ? She's where she's been all night, 
— out yonder with the sick folks. 

Michaelis. 
What is she doing there ? 

Martha. 
Feedin' 'em, first off, an' then heart'nin' of 'em 
up. That's a purty hard job, I reckon ; but it's 
the way o' women when they feel like she does. 
Michaelis sinks in a chair, drawing Annie to him. 
Mrs. Beeler's bell rings ; Martha goes out by the hall door. 
Annie watches his bent head in silence for a moment. 

Annie. 
Are you ever going up again, on the rope? 

Michaelis. 

Not rememberitig. 
On the rope ? 



138 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Annie. 

You know . . . the magic rope. — Ain't you 
ever going to climb up in the sky again? 

Michaelis. 

Recollecting. 

Never again, Annie. Never again. 

Annie. 
Have you got the rope still ? 

Michaelis. 
No, I have lost it. 

Annie. 
Won't you ever find it? 

Michaelis. 

It can only be found by some one who will know 
how to use it better than I did. 

Annie. 
How better ? 

Michaelis. 

By some one who can climb up, toward the sun 
and the stars, and yet never leave the earth, 
the cities, and the people. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 139 

Annie. 

Then he'll have to take them up with him. 

Michaelis nods for yes. 

Gracious ! 

She runs to the porch door to meet Rhoda, who appears out- 
side. 

Cousin Rhoda ! What do you think he says 
about the magic rope? 

Rhoda. 
What, Annie? 

Annie. 

He says that first thing you know, everything 
will be going up in the air, towns and people 
and everything. 

Rhoda. 
Does he ? 

Annie. 

Runs out into the hall, balancing her arms above her head 
and gazing up laughingly. 

Dear me! That will be very tippy ! 

Rhoda enters. 

Michaelis. 

You are here! The fear came over me, just 
now — 



i 4 o THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Rhoda. 

I could not go until I had told you the truth — 
about myself — about us. 

Michaelis. 

You will tell me the whole truth, and I will 
tell you the same. But that will be for later. 
Come ! Come away with me, into the new life. 

Rhoda. 

A life rooted in the failure of all that life has 
meant to you from the beginning ! 

Michaelis. 
Until yesterday I did not know what my life was. 

Rhoda. 

You do not know that, even yet. You know it 
now less than ever — what your life is, what it 
means to you, what it means to the world. 

Michaelis. 

To the world it can mean nothing. That is 
ended. But to us it can mean happiness. Let 
us make haste to gather it. Come ! 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 141 

Rhoda. 

Where do you want me to go ? 

Michaelis. 

Anywhere — to that place I told you of — high 
in the great mountains. 

Rhoda. 
I was there last night. 

Michaelis. 
In your thoughts ? 

Rhoda. 

I was there, and saw all the beauty of it, all the 
peace. But one thing was not there, and for 
lack of it, in a little while the beauty faded and 
the peace was gone. 

Michaelis. 
What was not there ? 

Rhoda. 
The work you have to do. 

Michaelis. 

That was a dream I could not realize. I have 
striven, and I have failed. 



i 4 2 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Rhoda. 
Do you know why you have failed ? 

Michaelis. 



Rhoda. 



Yes. 

Tell me why. 

Michaelis. 

Because I have loved you more than the visions 
that came to me in desert places, more than the 
powers that fell upon me at the bedside of the 
sick, more than the spirit hands and spirit voices 
that have guided me on my way. 

Rhoda. 

What of the sick and suffering out yonder, who 
are waiting and hoping against hope ? What of 
them ? 

Michaelis. 

I cannot help them. 

Rhoda. 
Once you dreamed you could. 

Michaelis. 
Yes. But that is over. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 143 

Rhoda. 

And who is to blame that that great dream is 
over ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

No one is to blame. It has happened so. 

Rhoda. 

Doesn't it seem strange that the love of a woman 
entering into your heart should take away such 
a dream as that ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

I do not question. It is so. 

Rhoda. 

But if your love had fallen, by some sad chance, 
upon a woman who was not worthy of love ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

What are you saying? 

Rhoda. 

You know less than nothing of me. You have 
not asked me a single question about my life. 

MlCHAELIS. 

There was no need. 



144 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Rhoda. 
There was need ! There was need ! 

Michaelis. 
Be careful what you say. Go on ! 

Rhoda. 

In the first hour of our meeting, and all the 
hours of the next day, you swept me along and 
lifted me above myself, like a strong mind. I 
didn't know what you were. I didn't know why 
I was happy and exalted. It was so long since 
I had been happy, and I had never been as 
happy as that, or anything like it. Then, yes- 
terday morning, came the revelation of what 
you were, like a blinding light out of the sky ! 
And while I stood dazed, trembling, I saw some- 
thing descend upon you like a shadow. You 
loved me, and that love was dreadful to you. You 
thought it was so because I was a woman and 
stole your spirit's strength away. But it was 
not that. It was because I was a wicked woman. 

Michaelis. 
Why do you call yourself a wicked woman ? 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 145 

Rhoda. 
Because I am so. 

MlCHAELIS. 

I cannot believe it. 

Rhoda. 
It is true. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Is that why you wanted to go away? 

Rhoda. 

Yes, I tried to go away. You wouldn't let me go. 
Then I tried to tell you the truth. I knew why 
I took your strength away, and I had nerved 
myself to tell you why. But you began to speak 
— those wild words. I could not resist you. 
You took me in your arms ; and all the power 
of your soul went from you, and your life went 
crashing down in darkness. 
Long pause. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Wicked? A wicked woman? 

Rhoda. 

I was young then, wild-hearted, pitifully igno- 
rant. I thought that love had come to me. 



146 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Girls are so eager for love. They snatch at 
the shadow of it. — That is what I did. — I am 
not trying to plead for myself. — Some things 
are not to be forgiven. — Somewhere in my 
nature there was a taint — a plague-spot. — If 
life is given me, I shall find it and root it out. 
I only ask for time to do that. But meanwhile 
I have done what I could. I have told you the 
truth. I have set you free. I have given you 
back your mission. 

Dr. Littlefield enters, carrying his hat and medicine case. 
He looks sharply at Rhoda, then turns to Michaelis. His 
manner towards him is politely contemptuous, toward 
Rhoda it is full of covert passion, modified by his habitual 
cynicism and satire. 

Littlefield. 

To Rhoda. 

Good morning. 

To Michaelis. 

Good morning, my friend. I understood that 

you sent for me, last night. 

Michaelis. 
I did. 

Littlefield. 

Glad to accommodate a fellow practitioner, even 
if he is in a side line. Some folks think your 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 147 

way of business is a little shady, but Lord, if 
they knew the secrets of our charnel-house ! 

Michaelis. 
How did you leave the child ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Done for. I said I was worth a million of you 
in a case like this, but I didn't realize how far 
things had gone. The next time, call me in a 
little sooner. 

He writes on his note pad, tears out a leaf, and lays it on the 
table. 

Mrs. Beeler will continue the old prescription, 
alternating with this. 

He puts the note pad in his pocket, and turns to Rhoda. He 
speaks in a tone which implies command, under the veil of 
request. 

Will you walk a ways with me, Miss Williams ? 
Rhoda. 

Pale and trembling. 

No. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Pardon! I must have a short talk. It is im- 
portant. 



148 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Rhoda. 
I cannot go with you. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

I think you had better reconsider. 

Michaelis. 
Astonished at his tone. 
You have heard that she does not wish to go. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 
Ignoring Michaelis. 

I have no time to waste, and I shall not stop 
to mince my words. You are coming with me, 
and you are coming now. 

Michaelis. 

To Rhoda. 

Who is this man ? 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Wheeling upon him angrily. 

Ton my honor ! " Who is this man ? " " Re- 
move the worm ! " Decidedly tart, from a mir- 
acle-monger in a state of bankruptcy. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 149 

MlCHAELIS. 
To Rhoda. 

Is this the man you told me of ? 
Rhoda. 

Steadily. 

Yes. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 
To Rhoda, as he eyes Michaelis with dislike. 
So you have called in a father confessor, eh ? 
To Michaelis. 

Well, since the lady can't keep her secrets to 
herself, this is the man. Very painful, no 
doubt, but these little things will happen. 
To Rhoda. 

I should have chosen a more secluded nook to 
say this in, but you're skittish, as I have learned 
to my cost, and likely to bolt. What I want 
to say is, dont bolt. It won't do you any good. 
— I've found you once, and I'll find you again, 
no matter what rabbit's hole you dodge into. 
To Michaelis. 

This ain't George Littlefield, M.D., talking 
now. It's the caveman of Borneo. He's got 
arms as long as rakes, and teeth that are a 
caution. — Look out for him ! 



ISO THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

MlCHAELIS. 
Holding himself in stern restraint. 
Your arms and teeth are long enough, and 
eager enough to do damage, but they will not 
avail you here. This girl is in other keeping, 
and I dare to say, better. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

In other keeping, eh ? Yours, I suppose. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Yes, mine. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Bless my soul ! 

He turns to Rhoda, pointedly ignoring Michaelis. 

Look here, Rho, be sensible. I'm tired of this 
hole of a town already. We'll go west and re- 
new our youth. Country's big, and nobody to 
meddle. You'll flourish like a green bay tree. 
Rhoda turns distractedly, as to escape ; he intercepts her. 
Confound it, if you're so set on it, I'll marry 
you ! Say yes, and let John the Baptist here 
give us his blessing. Speak up. Is it a go ? 
— Till death us do part. 

MlCHAELIS. 

Death has already parted you and her. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 151 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

So ? I feel like a reasonably healthy corpse. 

Michaelis. 

There is no health in you. Every word you 
speak gives off corruption. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Indeed ! My advice to you is, make tracks for 
your starvation desert. A parcel of locoed 
Indians are about right for a busted prophet. 

Michaelis. 

What I am is no matter. What this girl is, 
though you lived a thousand years, you would 
never have the grace to imagine. She gave 
you her young love, in childish blindness, not 
knowing what she did, and you killed it idly, 
wantonly, as a beast tortures its frail victim, 
for sport. You find her again, still weak and 
bleeding from her wounds, and you fling her 
marriage, in words whose every syllable is an 
insult. Marriage ! When every fibre of her 
nature must cry out against you, if she is 
woman. Take your words and your looks from 
her, and that instantly, or you will curse the 



1 52 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

day you ever brought your evil presence into 

her life. 

He advances upon him threateningly. 

Instantly, I say, or by the wrath of God your 

wretched soul, if you have one, shall go this 

hour to its account ! 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

Backing toward the door, scared, but keeping his brazen 
tone. 

All right. — I'm off. — Caveman for caveman, 
you've got the reach ! 

To Rhoda. 

But remember, my lady, we're not quits by a 
jug-full. You'll hear from me yet. 

Michaelis. 
She shall never hear from you, nor of you. 

LlTTLEFIELD. 

In the door. 

Last call, old girl ! — Women! 

He goes out, slamming the door behind him. Long pause. 

Michaelis. 
Poor child ! Poor child ! 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 153 

Rhoda. 
I am sorry that you have had to suffer this. 

Michaelis. 

It is you who have suffered. 

Martha enters from the hall, wheeling Mrs. Beeler in the 
invalid chair. She lies lower than in the first act, her 
manner is weaker and more dejected. Rhoda, whose back 
is turned, goes on as the two women enter. 

Rhoda. 

I deserve to suffer, but it will always be sweet 
to me that in my need you defended me, and 
gave me back my courage. 

Michaelis goes to Mrs. Beeler ; she gives him her left hand 
as at first. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

My poor friend ! 

Martha, resigning the chair to Rhoda, goes out. Mrs. Beeler 
looks up at Rhoda anxiously. 

What were you saying when I came in ? 
As Rhoda does not answer, she turns to Michaelis. 
Something about your defending her. — Against 
what ? 

Michaelis. 

Nothing. Her nature is its own defence. 



154 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Caressing her. 

Ah, no ! She needs help. She cannot bear it 
that this disaster has come, through her. It 
has made her morbid. She says things about 
herself, that make me tremble. Has she spoken 
to you — about herself ? 

Michaelis. 
She has laid her heart bare to me. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

That is good. Young people, when they are 
generous, always lay disaster at their own 
door. 

She kisses Rhoda. The girl goes into the porch, where she 
lingers a moment, then disappears. Mrs. Beeler sinks 
back in her chair again, overtaken by despondency. 

Isn't it strange that I should be lying here 
again, and all those poor people waking up 
into a new day that is no new day at all, but 
the old weary day they have known so long ? 
Isn't it strange, and sad ? 

Michaelis. 
I ask you not to lose hope. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 155 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Ro using from her dejection into vague excitement. 

You ask me that ? — Is there — any hope ? Oh, 
don't deceive me — now! I couldn't bear it 
now ! — Is there any hope ? 

Michaelis. 

A half-hour ago I thought there was none. 
But now I say, have hope. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Eagerly. 

Do you ? Do you ? Oh, I wonder — I wonder 

if that could be the meaning — ? 

Michaelis. 
The meaning — ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Of something I felt, just now, as I sat there in 
my room by the open window. 

Michaelis. 
What was it ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

I — I don't know how to describe it. — It was 
like a new sweetness in the air. 



156 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

She looks out at the open window, where the spring breeze 
lightly wafts the curtains. 

MlCHAELIS. 

The lilacs have opened during the night. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

It was not the lilacs. — I get it now again, in 
this room. 

She looks toward the lilies a?td shakes her head. 

No, it is not the lilies either. If it were any- 
one else, I should be ashamed to say what I 
think. 

She draws him down and speaks mysteriously. 

It is not real flowers at all ! 

Song rises outside — faint and distant. 
MlCHAELIS. 

What is it to you ? 

Mrs. Beeler. 

It is like — it is like some kindness in the air, 
some new-born happiness — or a new hope 
rising. Now you will think I am — not quite 
right in my mind, as Mat does, and Martha ! 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 157 

MlCHAELIS. 

Mrs. Beeler, there is such a perfume about us 
this beautiful Easter morning. You perceive 
it, with senses which suffering and a pure soul 
have made fine beyond the measure of woman. 
There is a kindness in the air, new-born happi- 
ness, and new-risen hope. 

Mrs. Beeler. 
From whose heart does it rise ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

From mine, from Rhoda's heart, though she 
knows it not, from yours, and soon, by God's 
mercy, from the heart of this waiting multitude. 

The song, though still distant, grows louder. 
Mrs. Beeler turns to Michaelis and gazes intently into his 
face. 

Mrs. Beeler. 

The light has come into your face again ! 
You are — you are — Oh, my brother, what has 
come to you ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

I have shaken off my burden. Do you shake 
off yours. What is pain but a kind of selfish- 
ness? What is disease but a kind of sin? 



158 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

Lay your suffering and your sickness from you 
as an out-worn garment. Rise up ! It is Easter 
morning. One comes, needing you. Rise up 
and welcome her ! 

Mrs. Beeler rises and goes to meet Rhoda, entering from the 
porch. 

Rhoda. 
Aunt Mary ! You are walking again ! 

Mrs. Beeler. 

He told me to arise, and once more my dead 
limbs heard. 

Rhoda. 

God in His mercy be thanked ! 

Mrs. Beeler. 

I rose without knowing what I did. It was as 
if a wind lifted me. 

Rhoda. 
Yes, yes. For good, this time ! 

Mrs. Beeler. 

So different from yesterday. I was still weak 
then, and my limbs were heavy. Now I feel 
as if wings were on my shoulders. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 159 

She looks toward the outer door, and listens to the singing, 
now risen to a more joyful strain. 

I must go out to them. 

She turns to Michaelis. 

Say that I may go out, and give them the good 
tidings of great joy. 

Michaelis. 

May the Lord be with you as you go ! 

To Rhoda, who starts to help her aunt. 

Alone ! 

Mrs. Beeler. 

Yes, alone. I want to go alone. 

She takes a lily from the vase, and lifting it above her head, 
goes out through the porch, which is now flooded with sun- 
shine. 

As she goes out she says : 

The Easter sun has risen, with healing in its 

wings ! 

She crosses the porch and disappears. 

Rhoda. 

I felt something dragging me back. It was 
Aunt Mary's spirit. 



160 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

MlCHAELIS. 

No, it was mine. 

Rhoda. 
Yours ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

My spirit, crying to you that I was delivered. 

Rhoda. 

I delivered you. That is enough happiness for 
one life. 

MlCHAELIS. 

You delivered me, yes. But not as you dream. 
Yesterday when the multitude began to gather, 
the thing I had been waiting for all my life was 
there, and I — because of you — I was not 
ready. In that blind hour my life sank in 
ruin. — I had thought love denied to such as 
had my work to do, and in the darkness of that 
thought disaster overwhelmed me. — I have 
come to know that God does not deny love to 
any of his children, but gives it as a beautiful 
and simple gift to them all. — Upon each head 
be the use that is made of it ! 

Rhoda. 
It is not I — who — harm you ? 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 161 

MlCHAELIS. 

It is you who bless me, and give me back the 
strength that I had lost. 

Rhoda. 
I? 

MlCHAELIS. 

A little while ago you told me your life's bitter 
story. I tasted your struggle, went down with 
you into the depths of your anguish, and in 
those depths, — the miracle ! Behold, once 
more the stars looked down upon me from their 
places, and I stood wondering as a child won- 
ders. Out of those depths arose new-born 
happiness and new-risen hope. For in those 
star-lit depths of pain and grief, I had found at 
last true love. You needed me. You needed 
all the powers I had thrown away for your 
sake. You needed what the whole world needs 
— healing, healing, and as I rose to meet that 
need, the power that I had lost poured back 
into my soul. 

Rhoda. 
Oh, if I thought that could be ! 



162 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

MlCHAELIS. 

By the mystery that is man, and the mercy that 

is God, I say it is so. — 

Puts his hand on her head, and gazes into her face. 

I looked into your eyes once, and they were 
terrible as an army with banners. I look again 
now, and I see they are only a girl's eyes, very 
weak, very pitiful. I told you of a place, high 
in the great mountains. I tell you now of 
another place higher yet, in more mysterious 
mountains. Let us go there together, step by 
step, from faith to faith, and from strength to 
strength, for I see depths of life open and 
heights of love come out, which I never dreamed 
of till now ! 
A song rises outside, nearer and louder than before. 

Rhoda. 
Against your own words they trust you still. 

MlCHAELIS. 

It was you who held them to their trust ! 

Rhoda. 
You will go out to them now. 



ACT III] THE FAITH HEALER 163 

MlCHAELIS. 
As he kisses her. 

Until the victory ! 

The song rises to a great hymn, of martial and joyous 
rhythm. They go together to the threshold. They look at 
each other in silence. Rhoda speaks, with suppressed 
meaning. 

Rhoda. 
Shall it be — on earth ? 

MlCHAELIS. 

On the good human earth, which I never pos- 
sessed till now ! 

Rhoda. 

But now — these waiting souls, prisoned in 
their pain — 

MlCHAELIS. 

By faith all prisoned souls shall be delivered. 

Rhoda. 
By faith. 

MlCHAELIS. 

By faith which makes all things possible, which 
brings all things to pass. 

He disappears. Rhoda stands looking after him. The young 
mother hurries in. 



1 64 THE FAITH HEALER [ACT III 

The Young Mother. 

Ecstatic, breathless. 

Come here — My baby ! I believe — I do 
believe — 

She disappears. 

Rhoda. 

Following her. 

I believe. I do believe ! 

The music rises into a vast chorus of many mingled strains. 
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